Innocence and Experience
by Athena Keating-Thomas
Summary: Not OOTP compliant, AU past GoF. A fateful encounter between a hopeless Harry and a hurt and amnesiac Snape results in the revelation of their futures and pasts. This story will be completed!
1. Unexpected falls

Author's note: Of course this is but the first part of the story, more to come later. These characters aren't mine; I'm just borrowing them and wish their owner health and happiness.  
  
AN 2: My silly spelling errors are now corrected. Chapter 2 coming soon. Also soon to come (hopefully within this month) will be a website I'm working on. The focus of said website is to archive and/or link to some of the best stories involving Snape that can be found to read. If you're one of my favorite authors or wrote a favorite story of mine (I've got lots more that I haven't listed in my profile yet) you can be sure you'll be hearing from me. Any comments?  
  
  
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Nightmare images assaulted him; a feeling of weightlessness, of urgency and of enormous pain- confusing enough when he was unable to understand the rapid-fire sensations, but he didn't remember hitting anything to cause the pain- until the ground made contact and all went black.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Harry stirred slightly from where he rested against the solidity of a massive tree trunk. The sound he'd heard was less like the expected- but not hoped for- approach of a vehicle, and more like the sound of conflict. A not-so-brief scream of pain... a distant yell of triumph... even the crash of one of the thinner trees as it was brought down by something. Not good.  
  
The debate on whether or not to investigate that which he was certain would lead to yet another "adventure", or to just remain where he was and wait to be tracked down by agents of either side took a few minutes due to the lassitude of his current thoughts. Harry's foot scuffed repeatedly against a piece of rock that stuck up from the packed dirt of the forest; one of many that did so. Eventually, he decided that despite the events of his fourth year, Harry hadn't quite had the last remains of his life sucked from him completely. At least, he had enough left to make him press himself wearily to his feet and squint through the evening sun across the road towards where he had heard the sounds. On the boundary between the small road and the forest where he had ... found himself... it was difficult to see more than the resumption of the tree line which the small road wound its way through. Especially with cracked glasses. Sighing, his internal debate resumed at the prospect of having to walk, on top of having to leave the tiny hope of catching a ride from someone driving on the deserted road.  
  
Grumbling at the minor bruises he acquired when he'd been thrown from the car, Harry carefully commanded his limbs to carry him on his way. It wasn't much, but he did have an objective to avoid collecting more injuries tripping over forest roots. More couldn't really be thought of at the moment. He crossed the road and entered the forest, trudging up and then down the slopes on either side of the cracked asphalt.  
  
Keeping his movements slow enough to keep the sounds he made to a minimum, he set out in the direction he thought he'd heard the fight from. The trees made for good cover, some of them being old enough that their towering size necessitated that their trunks develop a respectable girth to support themselves. A roundabout route would be best, especially one that would maximize the forest cover. He knew of the game called "Hide and Seek"; even saw groups of kids playing it at the school he'd gone to before attending Hogwarts. He'd used the idea behind the game on furtive trips to the kitchen during those rare occasions in which he hadn't been locked into his cupboard or later his small room for the night; even before their son was put on his diet the Dursleys hadn't exactly gifted him with lavish meals. Now he was using it for what could become a matter of survival. This wasn't a matter of great importance but rather one of habit.  
  
Finally he reached the area of the fallen tree... and found a body sprawled untidily near its base, a broken broomstick nearby.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
The sensation of his twitching legs dragging over the ground was the first thing he became aware of. That and the leftover effects of ... something. The pain that caused his periodic and uncontrolled spasms.  
  
Next the fact that he seemed to be moving vied for his attention. Moving backwards at that. And something was wrapped under his armpits and across his chest. He looked down and saw... hands. Two of them, and young looking. When a pause came in their travel and the hands readjusted themselves for a firmer grip he saw that the fingers were scraped and dirty. He felt himself lifted a little again and the dragging travel resumed before it occurred to him that there was something odd about this arrangement. Something wrong that he couldn't bring to mind. Speaking of mind, it was about that point that his splitting headache made itself known to him, and he groaned softly. The backwards progress came again to a halt as the owner of the hands made a shushing noise and said, "Keep still. Whoever hit you might still be around," before the dragging resumed. Apparently, whoever this was agreed with the spasms in his legs that he wasn't going to be walking on his own anytime soon. The voice itself was youthful but carried a weariness that seemed to be more emotional than physical, judging by the amount he was being lifted from the ground.  
  
As though prompted by this thought he found himself slowly flexing his hands and bending his arms at the elbows, sending up shooting pains as a result and causing his transport to grunt and make a quick readjustment before continuing on. "Hold still, sir- you're slipping."  
  
There was a pause before he felt himself being dragged up an incline and then quickly across a small and old but paved road before moving down on the other side. Small rocks were imbedded in the dirt of the inclines before changing back to the leaf-strewn dirt of the forest around him. Soon afterwards he caught a glimpse of the boy who had moved him as the boy proceeded to settle him into a large bole of a massive tree. Thin and near to gangling with dark, messy hair and wearing cracked glasses. The boy's shirt was rumpled, dirty and torn near the elbow and his jeans weren't in much better condition, the whole of which was rather ill fitting.  
  
Sitting back on his heels, the boy looked at the man and then over his shoulder back at the road before saying, "I've got to hide our trail from whoever's out there." With a touch of trepidation, the boy increased the man's confusion by rising to his feet and warily but respectfully saying, "I'll be right back, Professor Snape." 


	2. Branches and Broomsticks

Author's note: Disclaimers apply as before. In case you haven't re-read chapter 1 (sans spelling errors) let me mention again:  
  
Soon to come (hopefully within this month) will be a website I'm working on. The focus of said website is to archive and/or link to some of the best stories involving Snape that can be found to read. If you're one of my favorite authors or wrote a favorite story of mine (I've got lots more that I haven't listed in my profile yet) you can be sure you'll be hearing from me. Any comments?  
  
  
  
Chapter 2  
  
  
Taking an inexpert measure of Snape's condition, Harry hesitantly offered the comment of, "It'd probably be better for you to try and stay awake," taking a step back in expectation of having his head bitten off by the man he'd dragged into the space inside the tree. When moments passed without comment Harry decided to not look a gift horse in the mouth and quickly took his leave.  
  
Harry scampered back up the short incline to the road, watching for signs of movement and gathering an armful of leaves from the forest floor as he went. Coast clear, he jogged across the asphalt and back into the trees; a run was too much to ask of himself at the moment but the near-to-emotionless haze that had occupied him since the end of his fourth year at Hogwarts seemed to be retreating a bit at the disturbing sight his Professor had presented. Strategies needed to be decided upon, and some inner part of his mind demanded that he paid attention. This detachment seemed to be working wonders for his clarity of thought.  
  
The trail he'd left while dragging Snape away from the crash site was a pretty obvious one, and he started to obscure it by shuffling the thick coverage of leaves on the ground over it, and dropping some of the leaves he carried over the results. Muttering both curses and blessings at the desolate state of the area, Harry noted to himself that while it looked like he wouldn't be getting a lift from a friendly face in the near future, the area was untouched and heavily wooded enough that the leaf coverage of the floor seemed a permanent fixture to be present during late summer. Yet another pair of opposites to add to his life; he'd both thought it too good to be true to be brought along on the summer trip to America the Dursleys had taken, all the while silently bemoaning the time spent with them when he managed to summon the energy to do so.  
  
Gathering more leaves from off of the path to aid in his visual deception, he continued carefully shuffling the coverage around while contemplating the last words Vernon Dursley had uttered while Dudley had gleefully shoved him out the door of the car. "Good riddance! And now for our vacation home in Majorca!"  
  
With a pause for breath, Harry realized that yet again his thoughts had become circular, running around and around with the same repetitive thought until he stopped realizing what he'd been thinking. But this time it almost cost him as he suddenly heard someone approaching, loudly muttering to himself about his surroundings. Harry had to abandon his efforts at covering the trail but wrenched his pattern of thought around quickly enough that he grabbed a fallen branch and dragged it behind him to make a trail in a different direction before the man got within sight.   
  
Running lightly, Harry directed the trail back around and into the woods as swiftly and quietly as he could while trying to keep himself out of immediate sight. The desolate state of the area again received blessings rather than curses this time as he used the thick cover to his advantage. Eventually, he turned back towards the road a good distance from his hiding place and stopped dragging the branch, making it appear as though the trail continued south along that road. Carrying the branch with him, he hurried back into the forest's cover and circled around to avoid the other man on the newly created trail, eventually dropping the branch he'd made the trail with.   
  
Normally he would be silently praying to any and all powers that might be that the man wasn't an expert tracker, but he merely made his way as silently as possible back to where he had left the broken broom. It was his hope that the thing was still functional or could be fixed by Snape when he came back to his senses. No doubt Snape would have his wand; his own was in his trunk back in England despite his best efforts at retrieving it before they'd left on their trip to America.   
  
All the while, he couldn't help but linger over Snape's condition, and wondering why the man had left Snape where he had. He must've been looking for something. For that matter, what were he and Snape doing in the area to begin with? He tucked that question away as he spotted the fallen tree and snuck over to retrieve the broomstick. Mission accomplished, he moved off into the forest again in the opposite direction he'd come from and circled back around to the road and the tree in which he'd hidden Snape away.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
The boy headed back towards the road, leaving him to his pained confusion. He felt his eyelids drooping with a desire for the escape of unconsciousness, but he stubbornly kept them open as he tried to sort out what was going on. The period of time before he awoke to find himself being dragged backwards by the boy was a blank haze; one he was only barely aware of as being unusual.   
  
His attention wandered to the source of his discomfort; an unpleasant conglomerate of his right leg and his head. Putting a hand to his head, he found what felt like a swelling knot there, but no blood despite the tenderness of the area. Feeling suddenly dizzy and nauseous, he lowered his hand again and carefully rested his head back against the innards of the tree in which he rested. As he took several gulps of calming air, his gaze strayed to his right leg. Focusing upon it gave him something besides nausea to be occupied by. It looked straight enough, but the level of pain emitting from the leg convinced him that all was not well with it. Trying to shift it once swiftly convinced him of the wisdom of not repeating the attempt.  
  
Thankfully the overwhelming pain he had experienced as the boy was moving him had subsided to a degree that he found he was able to manage. The air he breathed was fresh without any of the smells associated with a city or even a rural area that was regularly traveled. Birds chirped unconcernedly in the near distance, and the occasional warm breeze played with strands of his hair. From those two facts the man received the impression that wherever he was, it was in the northern hemisphere during the summer.  
  
To his perceptions, an unknown amount of time passed during which he struggled to retain consciousness and think about something other than his current perplexing situation, but he found it difficult to concentrate on anything for long periods of time. Eventually he heard the sound of someone hurriedly approaching his tree and the boy came into view, crouching down to talk with him while trying to catch his breath.  
  
"I've led him off the track, I think," the boy gasped as he carefully leaned an object against the tree. Upon closer inspection, the man was puzzled to note that the object was a broom with its handle nearly broken off. The boy must have used it in whatever he'd been doing whilst he was away. His muddled confusion grew again when the boy asked, "Could you fix the broomstick, Professor? I don't have my wand."  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
The total lack of recognition in response to his request startled Harry. The lack of improvement in Snape's condition and the pale sheen to his face concerned him. The blank look in his black eyes and the lack of a sneer or scornful stare from Snape frightened him. Harry remembered his surprise at how light the Professor was when he'd first lifted him. If it hadn't been for the differences in size between Harry and Snape, Harry would have been able to lift and carry him. Taking another look at Snape, Harry got the feeling that Snape might have been better off if he had. With another hesitant pause, Harry asked a question guaranteed to get a rather loud reaction from Snape. "... Are you okay?"  
  
The absence of a sneer continued as Snape only looked muzzily up at Harry and murmured, "Hurts. Something's wrong with my leg, too." He gestured in the general direction of the aforementioned appendage before letting his hand fall again to his side. Harry was further shocked to see what looked like a cautiously uncertain expression briefly cross Snape's features as he looked at him before they settled again into muddled pain. His next question of Harry was the clincher. "Who are you?" 


	3. Wands and Worries

Author's note: Disclaimers apply as before. Let me also take this opportunity to thank all of my reviewers. I'm glad to hear that people are enjoying my writing, even if it gets a little wordy and twisted at times. Don't fear; all questions will be answered... eventually.  
  
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Chapter 3  
  
  
Several moments passed before Snape's question registered with Harry, moments that were filled with silence as the two stared at each other. A breeze wafted through their hair before Harry recovered enough to say, "Uh..." His thoughts flickered wildly through his head despite the lack of emotion connected through them. Snape didn't look to be faking it... He'd read about this in one of the storybooks that Dudley had thrown away. Amnesia. "You... don't remember me? I'm Harry Potter." He paused in the hopes that his name might spark some memory or reaction, but was swiftly disappointed as Snape's expression didn't change. "You don't remember anything?"  
  
Snape murmured, "It... seems that way. Nothing before you brought me here." Still wary but willing to enquire further, he asked, "Where are we? What happened?"  
  
"I was going to ask you the same thing on the 'what happened'. As to the where, we're in the United States, Professor Snape. Somewhere in the state of New York, I think. At least, that's where I heard we were headed."  
  
"We?" Snape asked with another grimace of pain as he tried unsuccessfully to shift himself into something resembling more of a comfortable position.  
  
"There's not a lot of time to talk now; we really should put some distance between us and the guy who probably shot you down. Do you have your wand?" Praying that the extent of Snape's amnesia didn't go far, Harry reached for the broomstick he'd leaned up against the trunk.  
  
Snape's question of "Wand?" caused Harry to wince.  
  
"Check your pockets for a long, slender piece of wood with a handle at one end."  
  
The request caused Snape's brow to furrow again in confusion, but he dizzily complied, patting at his robes to find the location of the pockets but carefully avoiding the area of his right leg. Harry glanced around the side of the tree back towards the road with a touch of impatience until Snape produced his wand from his left sleeve, holding it without familiarity. "This?"  
  
"Yes, that's it. It won't work for me, sir... you'll need to follow my instructions, I suppose." Harry shook his head in amazement at the situation. He was somewhat surprised at the feeling of sadness as he observed Snape's fingers holding the handle of his wand with only the dexterity of his body rather than with the skill he had witnessed during the dueling club of Harry's second year. Lifting the broomstick up, Harry directed Snape to change the position of his fingers a little before instructing further, "Okay. Point the wand and say, 'Arbos Reparo.'"  
  
Snape looked at Harry oddly for a moment before raising his wand, pointing it at the broomstick and speaking the words. "Arbos Reparo." The broomstick in Harry's hand started to repair itself, but only for a moment as Snape gasped in agony, his eyes rolling back before he fell unconscious. His wand slipped from his fingers to the ground next to him.  
  
Harry felt himself pale at the sight, looking from Snape to the broom and back with widened eyes. Finally his brain kicked in again and he tried out the broom, laying it on the ground and holding his hand over it. "Up!" The broomstick lifted wobbly and slow, but it reached his hand. Good. At least he'd be able to move Snape without having to cover another hugely obvious trail. Once they were somewhere safer he'd think more about Snape's condition and what to do about it. He set the broomstick aside for the moment and reached for Snape's wand.  
  
Harry quickly discovered that Snape's wand bore him a similar grudge to the one its owner seemed to as he received a jolt of electricity before he managed to drop it into one of his pockets. "Ow!" he cried before looking into his pocket at the stubborn piece of wood. "Listen, you. It's either this, or get left behind. I don't want you to get lost while I get us away from here. Snape'd kill me once he's got his memory back." And he will get it back, Harry insisted to himself. He carefully let the pocket fall closed, allowing his robe to rest against him once more. No additional shock was inflicted upon him. For a moment he wondered if Snape had simply created some sort of ward and placed it on his wand. He'd probably be mightily amused if he'd seen Harry talking to his wand like that.  
  
Imagining Madame Pomphrey's outraged voice about moving a patient, Harry worked to maneuver Snape into laying down fully upon the forest ground, taking extra care with his head. Next he set the broomstick on the ground next to Snape, rolled Snape over so that he was draped lengthwise over the broom, and held him in place as he commanded the broomstick to rise again.  
  
More slowly than before, the broomstick rose with its unconscious burden. Harry had a moment's fright as Snape's body listed to one side before Harry got him balanced again. He set off deeper into the forest and away from the road.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Darkness enshrouded the man, enfolding him in warmth despite the feeling of insecurity, movement and pain along his body which pooled excruciatingly in his head as he floated for what seemed like eternity. Instinctively retreating further into himself, he sought to escape the pain... he smelled decomposing leaves...  
  
Opening his eyes presented to him a picture of the forest's ground from very close up. Trying to lift his head resulted only in its shifting just enough for a leaf to stick itself further up one nostril. He made a quiet noise of frustration before the other noises started to register in his unstable consciousness. A name was called- his own, he thought. A familiar voice tainted by worry and a touch of fear as footsteps hurriedly approached. He heard himself think 'It must be bad this time,' but he didn't know what that meant.  
  
A hand settled itself carefully upon the small of his back and his voice croaked out in pain as he spasmed once. But the hand remained, growing warm- so very warm. It emanated from the spot on his back and slowly traveled outwards until he could almost imagine himself glowing as he lay there. Again he heard, "Severus," and he shifted his head again- this time with a bit more success. He beheld at his side the whiteness of beard over maroon robes. The touch of a hand which felt familiar to the body but alien to the witnessing mind. He heard himself whisper, "Albus," before his eyes fluttered closed again on the wings of a spoken sleeping charm.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Harry's path was a little rough and quick out of necessity; he'd heard the angered yell of the man he was running from when he'd discovered that Snape was no longer laying where he'd been left. The man knew Snape as the yell was his name accompanied by a few curses Harry would rather not think about. He still heard distant sounds as the man continued his search, and that was still too close for comfort in his books. He winced at the occasional quiet moan he heard from the body slumped over the mostly repaired broomstick as it wobbled. It took only one careful push of pressure against the broomstick for Harry to determine that it wouldn't hold the weight of both of them, so Harry walked next to Snape's floating body and tried keeping it balanced during the trip.  
  
It had been nearly an hour since he last heard noises from the searcher; he found himself rather surprised to be praying that the silence meant he'd gotten away from the man rather than the man changing his tactics to a silent search. The first sign of habitation was a welcome sight to Harry's eyes, but on second glance it was more akin to a dilapidated shed than any sort of home. Better than spending the night outside, Harry decided as he guided the broom over the roots of the surrounding trees.  
  
Out of caution, he had the broom lower down behind one of the trees out of sight from the shed while he investigated. The shed looked uninhabited and not in the best of condition, but it wasn't about to fall on their heads if they rested and hid there for the night.  
  
Returning to Snape, Harry's brow furrowed as the injured man tried to move his head where it rested on the leaf covered ground. Harry knelt down at his side and settled a hand upon his back, concerned for the condition of his professor... the hated professor who just a few weeks ago had revealed his precarious position and confirmed his checkered past. Snape shifted in pain beneath Harry's hand and croaked, "Albus," before falling still again.  
  
Somewhat startled, Harry stared at the motionless body before commanding the broom to rise again, moving them both into the shed as twilight took over the sky in preparation for the summer's night. 


	4. Covers and Conundrums

Disclaimers apply; these characters belong to JK Rowling and her associates. I wish the good lady health and happiness.   
  
My intention is to keep the author's notes to a minimum and devote my word count to the story, but I just wanted to mention how much interesting information one can find about amnesia, concussions and brain trauma on the web. I'm trying to keep symptoms, etc in line based on these facts. If anyone's interested, I wouldn't mind writing up a brief summary of symptoms I've been keeping in mind, the causes, etc. Or I could just leave it until later should Harry and Snape get back to Hogwarts and into Poppy's hands? ;)  
  
Oh, and in case you haven't already noticed, there are going to be loads of spoilers for all of the books. I'll go back to previous chapters and add that note in for the unwary travelers. Happy Thanksgiving to all!  
  
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Chapter 4  
  
  
Thankfully it didn't grow cold enough to warrant the need of blankets during the night as Harry was only able to find a couple of ripped and stained storage covers to serve as insulation from the wooden floor and its splinters. The shed smelled almost overwhelmingly of old wood, but yet again Harry met with a paradox. There were enough holes in the shed's exterior which detracted from the coverage of the shelter, but also enough that the rusted machinery in the corner didn't make the air impossible to breathe with oxidized iron and oil. Aside from the state of the air there was also the fact of the lack of light to deal with, but thankfully the light of the full moon also flooded in through the cracks in the woodwork, making it difficult but possible to see. With thoughts of Remus Lupin's condition weighing him down, Harry set to work.  
  
Making the broom hover against one of a couple of large boxes in order to keep Snape's body stable, Harry went about spreading the larger of the covers over the small space available on the floor, worrying a bit as he noticed what looked like holes gnawed into the cloth. His thoughts darkened further in contemplation of Ron's rat, Scabbers, and how he had never seen any signs of damage of Ron's things during the time Scabbers had acted as Ron's "familiar". Harry was on the edge of falling back towards his flirtation with self-hatred at his lack of perception until his gaze once again found Snape's hovering body, and he finished folding the other cover into support for Snape's head with little attention to thought. Placing the padding down at one end, Harry went over and fetched the Snape-laden broomstick, maneuvering it into position so that he could ease his professor to the ground as smoothly as he was able.   
  
Carefully settling Snape's body onto the covers and his head upon the padding, Harry finally let himself rest next to him- at least physically. His ears were straining for other sounds such as the cause of the gnaw marks on the covers, or approaching footsteps. Sleep hadn't been a favorite activity after the end of his fourth year; it had been overly filled with nightmares, and so he'd deprived himself of a lot of it. His conscience was unconcerned with this treatment, imagining it as fitting punishment for his perceived errors during the end of the third task, and thusly Cedric's death. An hour passed during which the day's events caught up with him, and exhaustion finally set in. Harry fell asleep curled up next to the dark and still form of his professor.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Shards of light washed over the man, piercing his skull and he struggled to turn his head, only to cause himself enough pain to make him moan in protest. Something stirred next to him before rising, but the glare of the overwhelming light prevented the man from being able to identify it. The young voice asked, "Professor?"  
  
"Light," the man managed in his disorientation. "Too much."  
  
"Oh," the boy exclaimed, and the shape rose further before moving away. "The sun's risen, and there's a crack in the shed that let it through on you. Here, I'll block it with something." Moments passed and there came the sounds of something heavy being dragged. Suddenly the light cut out, and the man sighed with relief, his eyes slowly slitting open as they tried to accustom themselves to the new light level. "Is that better?" the boy asked as he slowly approached the supine man.  
  
"Much better, thank you," the man wearily replied, not noticing the double take on the part of the boy at his politeness. He seemed to need several moments to compose his next words, his brow furrowed with concentration. "What is happening?"  
  
"A bit of a long story, Professor Snape," the boy replied, eventually deciding to sit on a bit of coverlet just out of the man's reach. The boy paused for some reason, looking at the man expectantly. His eyes were wide from behind his cracked glasses.  
  
Only after another minute did the man reply. "Professor Snape. That's my name? I can't seem to recall," he trailed off.  
  
"Yes," the boy replied, again with a strange combination of wariness and concern. "Severus Snape. You're the Potions professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."  
  
The man tried to look at this odd boy with his disbelief, but couldn't manage lifting his head so he subsided with a frown. "Witchcraft. And... Wizardry."  
  
"Yes," the boy replied with all the confidence of the deranged.  
  
"Potions," the man tried again in his effort to acquire comprehensible information.  
  
"Potions," the boy nodded in affirmation.  
  
There was a pause before the man stated, "You realize that you sound a bit daft, don't you?"  
  
The boy's eyes widened further as he gazed down at the man, "Erm. What is the last thing that you remember, Professor?"  
  
Black eyes drifted closed again as the man eventually murmured with a voice steeped with defeat, "Not much, I'm afraid. Why am I in so much pain? What happened? Please tell me."  
  
"But-" the boy haltingly protested. "You mentioned Albus in your sleep last night. He's the Headmaster. Surely you remember... something."  
  
He felt himself frown in his effort to remember. Something dreamlike and hazy, but shifting like quicksilver out of his grasp. "I said I do not remember. Must I ask again?"  
  
The boy finally relented and told him a tale of how the boy had been staying with his relations during the summer break when his uncle came home from work one day and suddenly announced that the family was taking a vacation in America. His uncle had taken special care to make sure that Harry's school stuff remained in the cupboard under the stairs; he'd thought it was due to the hatred his guardians held for anything magical, but since then he'd wondered. Sitting on the side of the road after having been unceremoniously abandoned, he wondered if it all hadn't been a plan. Especially with his Uncle's comment about seeing to their new summer home while Harry lay on the road in the wake of their car's emissions as they drove away. His uncle didn't have enough money for a new summer home. Someone must have bribed him to leave Harry; it also explained the presence of Snape and the other man.  
  
"How so?" the man interrupted the tale with a furrowed brow mixed with a confused stare.  
  
The boy stared back at the man and swallowed once.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Harry's thoughts were flying at a furious rate. Did Voldemort or one of his Death Eaters bribe Uncle Vernon into leaving Harry helpless in a foreign country where he could be collected without interference from anyone who knew him? It didn't take much of a stretch to imagine the man he had left behind as a Death Eater, and Snape, well he'd revealed himself at the end of last year. Apparently he'd been working for Dumbledore as the Headmaster had sent Snape on some errand... and weeks later they end up in this situation.  
  
But what was he going to tell the amnesiac Snape?  
  
"We really need to find some way to get in touch with Headmaster Dumbledore," Harry started. "I don't know what effect your injury has done to your ... abilities on top of the memory loss and your leg. Speaking of which, let me have a look at that. You're not bleeding, but I really hope it's not broken; I don't know how to reset a bone properly. I hope we'll be getting a class in first aid next year."   
  
Harry felt hopelessness starting to overwhelm him again at the reminders of Hogwarts, what he'd left behind, and what had last happened at the school. He reached for Snape's leg, expecting some sort of protest that never came. Snape didn't even react to any degree to the pain other than a gasp and a flinch; his hands remained at his sides. "It doesn't look broken," Harry commented, "But there's something wrong with it. Maybe a fracture... Anyway, I don't think you'll be able to walk on it like that. And you're not in a good condition to be moved at any rate; I only brought us here because I had to."  
  
"And where would we be going?" Snape queried tiredly. "To this school of yours? How long would we be traveling?"  
  
"Well," Harry considered, "You could probably Apparate once you got your memory back. I don't know how; we're not allowed to learn until we're older."  
  
An eyebrow raised; Harry was finding it interesting to watch what habits seemed learned or instinctive. "Apparating? What is that?"  
  
Harry searched for a description. "Uh. Teleporting from place to place?"  
  
Snape looked at him in an unnerving silence before closing his eyes again. "I'm rather tired."  
  
Almost too quickly and rather thankfully, Harry jumped to his feet, "I'll let you rest a bit and take a look around." He was finding his reaction to Snape's condition to be as unnerving to him as his stare. Snape's mannerisms, his voice, his eyes and his words all made Harry want to get away; to escape to a place where things were normal. He knew how unlikely that was going to be, however. Ever since he turned eleven. However, the thought of becoming the same as Snape, seemingly without knowledge of the wizarding world, made him cringe even more.  
  
Retaining the haunting memories of recent times or trading them in for ignorant bliss? The thought disturbed him despite the weight of those memories. This was something he had to think about more...  
  
As Harry went outside the shack, his stomach rumbled in annoyance; he'd ignored it since just after the time he'd been abandoned on the road, preferring to languish in the emotionless haze his thoughts had become. But now it became another problem. He needed to find food and water for the two of them. From Snape's reaction to magic the last time he tried it, he didn't think that would be of use without giving Snape an aneurism or something. What did happen to someone's magic when that someone was wounded or lost his memories?  
  
Harry was tempted to delve further into his memories of visits to the hospital wing to work out this puzzle, but figured he'd need to devote his concentration to his immediate surroundings instead if he was going to find anything helpful in these woods. There were birds chirping aplenty, but none he recognized and certainly none within range as they seemed to roost in the trees that towered several dozen feet above them before branching out. He started walking more softly, hoping to catch sight of some berries or perhaps even a rabbit. Thoughts of deer or anything similar were emphatically pushed aside with the memory of his father's animagus form.  
  
Ending the search after a couple of hours, he went back to check on Snape with some berries and apples he'd found growing wild. Even before he entered the shack he felt his brow furrow; something felt wrong. He looked around him but didn't see evidence of another presence nearby. Cautiously, he opened the rickety door.  
  
As Harry let his eyes adjust to the mottled darkness, he heard the sound of quiet but labored breathing. Closing his eyes completely for a few seconds to speed up the acclimation process, Harry was then able to see Snape's form on the cover. "Professor?" he asked with a touch of concern when he saw Snape tremble, "What's wrong?"  
  
It took Snape the passing of some moments before he rasped, "My left arm has started hurting suddenly and without cause. Do you know why this is?" 


	5. Prophecy and Prevarication

I want to take a moment again to thank my reviewers; it's great encouragement and a boost in causing the creative juices to flow. I'm averaging weekly postings and hope to keep up the pace with these quasi-short chapters.   
  
Disclaimers still and always will apply.  
  
  
  
Chapter 5  
  
  
The man was distressed at the sudden unexplained increase of pain which also increased his confusion, but it didn't stop him from noticing how the blood drained from the boy's face when he'd asked the question of the boy. The boy swayed on his feet for a moment until he reached out one hand to grasp the crate nearest him, dropping a few small green apples he'd been holding. "Voldemort," the boy whispered.  
  
It was then that the man heard voices; a mixed up babbling that was more impressions of words which caused the man to flinch, startled during the moment it lasted.  
  
//The boy cannot...//  
  
//Parted they must remain, until...//  
  
//-for or against us.//  
  
//-have but to maintain the conditioning-//  
  
Shaking his head to clear it was a movement that the man yet again came to regret as he found himself sucking in breath between his clenched teeth, raising a trembling hand to his neck. "... what?" he whispered once the room settled down to a slow spin rather than a careening path across the globe.  
  
The boy hesitated before repeating the word. "Voldemort. I think he's behind this all." He fell silent as though there was more to say, but he felt greatly reluctant to say it.  
  
"What does he have to do with why my arm is hurting?" the man finally rasped into the silence.  
  
The boy stiffened further with whatever it was that troubled him. He seemed to warring internally with himself, his cracked glasses reflecting a flawed reflection of the man that was difficult to see at that distance. At long last, the man watched the boy slowly advance towards him, the only sound in the shed being the labored breaths the man gasped through his pain. Slowly, the boy knelt at his side and just as slowly reached for the man's left sleeve to push it up past his elbow. A horrific tattoo of a skull with a snake coming out of its mouth was revealed to the man's startled gaze, the lines seeming burnt into his skin which was red and raw looking around the marks.  
  
"... He's summoning you," the boy solemnly murmured. Seemingly out of curiosity, the boy moved a finger towards the tattoo, hovering over it without touching as though to see if it emanated heat. With no seeming evidence of a burn, the boy lowered the finger to touch the tattoo- and all went black.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
The surface below him was of cold stone, and as his fingers explored he found that the surface was elevated. He sat up and looked down where he'd lain only to see the body of a young man whose features were creased from past pain and troubles. His hair was long, black and unkempt; his robes were of similar condition. It was then that he noticed that he was sitting in the same space as the young man, insubstantial, and that they both were resting atop an alter-like slab of stone inside what appeared to be a large dungeon room.  
  
At the sound of others approaching, the man jumped to his feet and hid behind a nearby stone column before the small group became visible through the doorway out. A man completely enshrouded in black robes and hood led the way with a few other men trailing behind him. Two had long blonde hair and were of the proper age and appearance for them to be father and son- the younger of the two seemed to be only a little older than the black haired man he'd shared his resting place with. The other two men had hair that was darker, one of whom looked to contain a bright-eyed intelligence while the other's hair was shorn unevenly with a sharpness to his gaze that seemed rather unstable.  
  
For some unknown reason that was beyond him, he was confused about not feeling any pain. Dismissing the thought as odd, he remained hidden to witness the events that unfolded before him.  
  
"... boy cannot be allowed to be away from our control for too long, My lord," the older blonde man said to the one who led them. "We've seen during his school years what happened when it was left for too long. Remember the time that he nearly managed to feed himself to the werewolf. He almost got away then."  
  
"Dumbledore didn't notice the plea for what it was, and hasn't paid it attention since then," the hooded figure intoned as he stepped up to the stone altar supporting the unconscious body. "He was too concerned for his fool Gryffindors, as usual," he said with a momentary glance in the direction of the younger blonde.  
  
"The prophecy spoke of a key," rasped the shorn man. "A key to power- and he is one or the other; key or power. Parted they must remain, until both are ours."  
  
"Perhaps we should favor an end to the boy instead," the older blonde muttered. "He can be a powerful tool- for or against us."  
  
"He already is a powerful tool, and one I wish to keep," the hooded figure ordered as he stood over the unaware figure of the young man. "I will not allow this venture to be a waste of the time and effort put into it already. The prophecy is not to pass for many years yet; we have but to maintain the conditioning and he will be doubly useful in his position as Dumbledore's little Potions Master."  
  
Interestingly, both the dark man with the signs of intelligence and the younger blonde couldn't quite hide a moment's flicker of relief at the hooded figure's words while the figure produced a length of wood from his robes and lowered his hood. The man thusly revealed was one who emanated charisma and dark purpose in his expression, the features chiseled and strong with short dark hair and a tint of red around the eyes. "Take his wand," he directed of the intelligent one. "He will be returned to you in time for breakfast."  
  
A length of wood- the wand- a familiar looking wand- was removed from the sleeve of the unconscious man's robe and taken from the room as instructed, and the charismatic man turned to his work. Raising his own wand over the younger body he intoned first, "Obliviate!" Additional words were muttered under his breath as the body upon the stone dais became restless, the head moving back and forth in slow denial until it grew still again. The man finished with an emphatically stated, "Obfuscate!" before lowering his wand and staring at the body with a possessive sort of satisfaction.  
  
When the man reached out to rest his hand on the younger man's chest his brow furrowed for a moment as though he felt something odd, but then he shook his head and turned to leave the room with powerful strides.  
  
Once the leader had left, the man slowly crept out from his hiding place, his brow furrowed in a matching expression to the leader's previous one as he looked after him. Shivers would not stop their incessant marching up and down his spine. When the leader had touched the young man, the man's skin had crawled. And the 'wand' that was taken from the young man looked compellingly like the one... the one he knew he had touched recently but could not recall where.  
  
Slowly he approached the still figure upon the stone dais and studied him. Without remembering what his own features looked like- this also seemed odd to him but soon dismissed in his dreamlike fugue- he speculated as to whether the young boy was in fact himself from years ago.  
  
Reaching out to the body, he felt his hand pass through and into the chest just before he found himself drawn forward as though by a swift and irresistible force. All was black once more.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
When Harry didn't see a sign of protest from Snape, he touched the Dark Mark to see if it was actually burning or if the redness was a glamorie effect due to the summoning. He didn't count on Snape's body arching upwards the moment he made contact, nor did he expect the sharp burning to begin in his scar. He threw himself over Snape's convulsing body to keep him from hurting himself further, but he also heard voices as though from a great distance. Voices discussing the fate of a boy being used as a tool; one who was becoming Dubledore's potions master- the boy must be Snape!  
  
The burning in his scar grew to a crecendo, tearing a pained gasp from Harry as he clutched his head and listened to the spellwork being done by the voice. From what the voices had said, he thought this might have all happened in the past. He hoped it was the past, and not the present. Snape was trying to shake his head but Harry diverted one of his hands from his scar to hold the head still; the convulsions had slowly come to a halt and the pain slowly ebbed... Snape grew still so Harry cautiously sat up again, watching Snape for further movement.  
  
He wasn't feeling concern for the man, was he? No, it must be a new wash of guilt for causing Snape further harm. It seemed as though everything and everyone he touched was doomed to come to harm- sooner or later.  
  
Just as Harry was starting to wonder how long Snape would be unconscious for this time his black eyes snapped open, accompanied by a gasp. A myriad of thoughts seemed to flicker through the dark depths as Snape readjusted himself to consciousness.  
  
Retaining his recently won wariness, Harry rose to his feet and retreated back to the door to fetch the meager fruit he had found growing wild. Wordlessly he offered Snape an apple, careful to hold it so that it wasn't necessary to touch his professor to give it to him.  
  
Snape stared at the apple for some moments before accepting it from Harry. He didn't bite into it, rather he asked in a somewhat shaky voice, "I seem to find myself asking this of you too often for my taste... but what happened?"  
  
Still in the throes of guilt, Harry turned to look into the corners of the shack better revealled in the sunlight. "I should search this place; maybe there's a first aid kit or something I can use to- uh- keep your leg straight." With that, he retreated into the patchwork shadows of the far corner. 


	6. Memories and Monickers

I have some great news (for me) and some bad news. This Sunday I'm getting married (hence the great news). However, this means that as I'll be away on my Honeymoon, I won't be able to post a chapter next week. I'll of course write to post one the week after next. Thank you all for your support, and for reading my excuse for an attempt at a story as good as the ones written by those in my Favorites (and a number of other stories I haven't gotten the opportunity to add yet!). I'm of the hope that this slightly longer chapter will push my word count to over 10,000...  
  
As always disclaimers apply. Zees no mine. Me pat pat the author muchly.  
  
------------  
  
Chapter 6  
  
  
The man watched the boy- Harry- retreat into the shadowed corner of the shack without comment. His black eyes remained upon the figure as Harry rummaged rather listlessly among the clutter of odds and ends on the rickety shelves that he had found.  
  
As his stomach growled irritably, the man remembered the apple in his hand and lifted it for inspection. It smelled ripe and felt mostly unblemished under his fingers so he hazarded a bite, startling Harry with the sound as he spun around to eye the man before returning to his search.  
  
Tilting his head, the man regarded Harry again- the boy seemed weighed down by his own thoughts, but didn't seem to want to share them nor divulge what had happened recently. Willing to give the boy some time, the man decided to focus upon the more physical aspect of their current situation. With some work, he could be patched up enough to travel again and find civilization if not the ... school Harry had described.  
  
"Pieces of wood would do, so long as there aren't any splinters. You could tie them with strips from these covers, or rags if you find any." Pausing, he added with a touch of amused irony, "I'd appreciate being able to move from here as there are certain bodily functions that are making their displeasure known to me."  
  
Harry spun around once more, this time to regard the man with a mixture of shock and disbelief at his tone and words. The man considered why he would receive such a reaction, but soon shrugged it off in favor of his current task of finishing the apple.  
  
"Have you found something, then? Perhaps even parts of those shelves if the material is suitable." Something of the words seemed to bring Harry out of his startled state if the mild voice did not. With a quiet sigh, the man let his eyes drift closed in thought. He felt better than he had earlier that morning, a surprising development after the oddly explained pain in his arm which had thankfully ceased.  
  
Despite his inner promise to concentrate upon seeing to his physical problems first, he couldn't help but try to sort out the jumbled snarl of his memories. More recently, he felt as though he'd had a dream- one that began with his sitting up from a body on a stone dais. The details were hazy but they were there in the background... not quite slipping away, but not illuminated into clarity. If only he could focus his concentration for longer than just a few seconds- time without the constant throbbing background of pain and the awareness of the large gap in his recollection. He let out a soft, despairing sigh.  
  
Again Harry's stare returned to him, but this time it was accompanied by Harry and a pair of stained and warped planks he carried, along with a heavy wooden broom handle that he'd unscrewed from the bristle attachment as he approached. The man glanced at the items in brief inspection before nodding. "The best you found, then? Let's get to it." With luck his words would start to put Harry more at ease so that he could learn more about the cause behind the latest puzzle.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Harry didn't know if he'd ever get over his amazement; every time Snape opened his mouth he made it more and more apparent that when divested of the dark thoughts behind his customary reactions, his reactions became very different. Almost human as opposed to his variations of cold and impersonal or raging fury.  
  
The latest thing that set his head shaking to himself in disbelief was Snape's simple acceptance that what he found was the best option rather than questioning his intelligence or capabilities. When Snape shifted himself up enough to reach behind him and fetch the sheet acting as a pillow he quickly paled and fell back again; apparently he'd overestimated either his progress in healing or underestimated his own injuries. Or perhaps he was just a glutton for punishment.  
  
Whichever it was, he couldn't be comfortable with his head and neck at that angle. Harry knelt at his Professor's side and carefully helped to readjust Snape's head into an angle more natural to biology. Slowly the color started to return to Snape's face, a gasp of relief pressing past his lips. After drawing back again, Harry stretched- his hands felt numb and chill like they were about to fall asleep, so he shook them back into life.  
  
Making sure Snape kept still and was aware of him, Harry slowly reached forward again to carefully raise Snape's head a little and slip the pillow sheet from underneath. Although he didn't flinch from the contact, Harry couldn't help but rub his fingers off on the sheet afterwards, unsurprised to find a residue on Snape's hair. He was surprised, however, to find that the sheet where he rubbed his hands slowly turned black despite the lack of colored stains on his fingers. An oddity that Snape's vaunted greasy hair turned out to be a clear substance which changed the color of his hair to black. Wordlessly looking down again at the man who was trying to relax, Harry wondered what Snape's true hair color was. Something he might well find out if they were stuck out here for too much longer.  
  
Muttering something vague about putting the cloth to good use, Harry got up again to use the bent nail he'd seen sticking out of the rickety and splintered shelves so that he could start tearing the sheet into strips. He spent some time doing so in silence, thankful for the distance from the continual emotional barrage beating against the thick layer of non-emotion that he had been keeping himself behind since the beginning of last summer. His thoughts eventually returned to the curiosities of the past two days, but they did so once more from behind his self made shields.  
  
Eventually Harry finished and with a touch of reluctance returned to Snape's side to set to work with Snape's help. Keeping the leg straight as Harry bound the planks on either side was difficult, but once in place Snape almost seemed to be in less pain. Harry set the broom handle down and made certain to stay on Snape's right side to support his head as together they tried to get Snape sitting up. At first Snape paled again, but he insisted it wasn't from pain. When he turned a pale shade of green around the edges, the source of Snape's distress became clear. "You're still too concussed to move, I think," Harry advised.  
  
Snape didn't look pleased, but allowed himself to be lowered back to the ground. Once he was back at rest Snape looked more comfortable, and Harry distractedly brushed a lock of hair from Snape's eye... not realizing that his hand came to rest on Snape's forehead until he thought to himself that the hurt man didn't seem to be running a fever and his temperature wasn't too low and his skin wasn't clammy either. Blinking once, Harry retrieved his hand which was faintly tingling again. Snape sighed quietly, his eyes nearly closing with sudden exhaustion, sinking finally into unconsciousness again.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
"Severus? Hey, Sev!"  
  
The brown haired boy looked up grumpily from his book from where he sat cross-legged on his bed, only to witness the spectacle of Lucius Malfoy walking into their dormitory with an almost concerned expression on his face. It must not have been too important as it disappeared soon after Malfoy had set eyes upon him. "Ah. Severus. How did your holidays go?"  
  
Raising an eyebrow at the unnecessary question, Severus returned his attention to his book although he kept his tone of voice absently pleasant. "Well enough, and yours?"  
  
Lucius gracefully moved to sit on his own bed, "Once I was able to get away from visiting relatives I had a restful time of it. Did you speak to your father about visiting over the summer?"  
  
As the conversation showed signs of becoming something other than the 'exchange pleasantries and let Severus be until he's less occupied', instead growing into the 'it's time to drag Severus away from his books and into something more interesting' sort of conversation, Severus sighed and found a stopping point in what he was reading before looking up again. "Yes, I did. He seemed quite agreeable to the idea. I suppose he'll take the time to continue his research on his own." From Severus' expression it seemed as though he was disappointed over missing the opportunity to work with his father.  
  
Unleashing his charming smile upon the lightly tanned figure opposite him, Lucius purred, "Oh, don't be like that Severus. You won't regret the time spent, I assure you. There are some people who will be attending the manor that you really should meet. In the meantime, come with me."  
  
With a sigh, Severus shut his book. "Where do you intend to spend your last few hours of freedom before you are shackled once more to the heinous task of schoolwork then?" Severus clearly didn't have the same opinion of studying that Lucius did, not including himself in the dry description.  
  
"Oh, I've decided to try out my new Christmas present. I do believe your father also gifted you with the latest in Cleansweep technology?" At Severus' solemn nod, Lucius loftily replied, "Well then, let's scare up Evan and Nathan for some Quiddich."  
  
Rising smoothly from his bed and adjusting his robes, Severus muttered not quite sotto voice, "I wager you'd convinced Father to make the purchase out of determination to win the cup." Lucius just smiled beatifically and led the way out.  
  
The other two boys were easily found in the Slytherin common room, and once they fetched their brooms the four of them headed out to the snow-laden Quiddich fields. Pairing up in their customary teams, Lucius and Evan took up Chaser positions while Severus and Nathan were their respective Keepers. In a game of two on two, the Snitch was usually left out by most other players- however with their own version of the game they incorporated the smallest ball, allowing for anyone to catch the elusive ball should they happen upon it. A sacrifice of ten points was permissible to one's team if one caught the Snitch in the meantime.  
  
Being the new Quiddich captain for the Slytherin team, Lucius decided to include another distraction in the form of the bludgers. No one used the bats; he announced it would be for dodging and maneuvering practice. The game began smoothly, and the new addition of the bludgers was an interesting challenge.  
  
Severus carefully watched as Nathan tossed the quaffle to Evan after Lucius had made a score, but as Evan started his trip towards Severus, Lucius knocked Evan aside from behind and snatched the ball away. Evan hadn't managed to get more than one or two shots past Severus in the two hours they'd been playing, but Severus preferred to keep Lucius happy by maintaining a secure goal when the others were in their half of the field.  
  
As the other two raced back towards Nathan while warding off one of the bludgers, Severus checked around for the Snitch and was surprised to see it nearby at the top of his goals. With an exclamation and an efficient movement, Severus swept towards the Snitch and flew upwards to catch it. He was even more surprised to find himself suddenly falling from his broom, blindsided by the other bludger which had come at him from behind.  
  
He heard the others call out to him, and then he knew no more.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Severus awoke with a gasp, his body jerking in reaction to the last part of the dream that flew through his thoughts. Looking around wildly, he spotted Harry's approach. "Professor?" Harry frowned. "What happened?" The words were concerned, but the tone was slightly deadened.  
  
"I..." Severus frowned distractedly, "I had a dream..."  
  
Curious, Harry asked, "What sort of dream? Do you... remember anything at all?"  
  
"We were ... flying," Severus slowly admitted. "On brooms," he added with a glance at the damaged broomstick leaning against the door. "We were playing a game of some sort and... I fell."  
  
Harry grinned for a moment although the expression didn't completely reach his eyes. "Sounds like you dreamed about playing quiddich. You played quiddich? What position?"  
  
Pressing his lips in disapproval for a moment, Severus felt his energy ebbing again from him as the adrenaline rush wore off. "I don't know," he murmured. "I remember guarding hoops... reaching for something small in the air when I got hit from behind."  
  
Harry winced at the description. "Ouch," was his comment as he sat down at Severus' right side. "Maybe you'd gotten hit by a bludger. Or another player," he suggested after a moment's thought of Slytherin tactics.  
  
Severus' voice was thoughtful and quiet, "The ... other players were on the other side of the field. Do you think it might be a memory then? Rather than a dream? It seemed quite real, but... flying?"  
  
"I hope it was a memory," Harry responded, surprising himself. "It'd mean you're on the way to recovery."  
  
Severus absorbed the words thoughtfully before murmuring, "We were near a castle. Is that your school?"  
  
Harry nodded. "Unless you played Quiddich near another castle, it sounds like Hogwarts, Professor Snape."  
  
"Severus," the other automatically corrected. "They called me Severus there, and it felt... normal." The quiet tone of his voice made Severus sound younger than he was to Harry. "Call me that for now, please."  
  
Hesitating a moment, Harry nodded, "Alright then." Silence dominated the shack for a few minutes, but it wasn't an entirely uncomfortable one.  
  
  
------------------------------------  
  
A/N: There. A nice ending for the Happy Holidays! 


	7. Speculation and Serums

A/N: I'd like to thank everyone who sent well-wishes and who read and reviewed my story (especially those with constructive comments; they are most definitely considered). My wedding went smoothly and we had a great time.   
  
I'd also like to note that I will definitely be revising this story so that I can add in more description and smooth out the rough edges that make me wince in horror. I'm picky. It's quite likely that I'll start the revision for next week, but I wanted to give people a new chapter to read first. Don't worry; the revised chapters will have plenty of new stuff to read. They'll even have small plot-affecting changes to make the whole work out more interestingly; it goes without saying (or not since I'm saying it) that it'd be better for the revisioned chapters to be re-read.  
  
By the way, I've not received any comments about the shift in perspective between sections... I hope that it's not just that people think I'm being inconsistent... :)  
  
Disclaimers apply as always.  
  
  
Chapter 7  
  
  
Wondering what to do next, Harry considered his options. Snape seemed comfortable if still sleepy and strangely mild... he even seemed somewhat younger in appearance without the fierce frown and challenge customarily present in his gaze.  
  
With a glance downwards Harry's decision was made. "Let's see how that splint is holding up. We don't want it falling apart once we can get moving." With a pause and a frown at the damaged broomstick, he added, "I'd try going for help on the broomstick if it was able to go higher and faster." Harry busied himself with checking the security of the splint, not wanting to see the disbelief, the lack of recognition in Snape's eyes at his statement. Instead, he continued talking... perhaps half hoping that Snape would suddenly lose patience with his rambling, tell him to be quiet and take points from Gryffindor. "As it is, the broom will help us get going; we can sit you on it until you're steadier on your feet. Hopefully you won't get motion sickness once you've rested up a bit. Flying is like riding a bike, I think. Once you've learned to do it..." He trailed off on the realization that there was a chance Snape would encounter trouble due to more than the state of his leg.  
  
Snape's voice retained its quiet thoughtfulness as he murmured in unknowing agreement with Harry's thoughts, "I'm not certain about that... but we'll see. I still find it difficult to believe it would move at all on its own, and that my dream was not just that- a dream." With a pause for further thought, he watched Harry's exaggerated caution when touching his leg and noted to the boy, "My leg doesn't really hurt too much any longer."  
  
"That will probably change the moment we try to move you," Harry noted. Memories of his many stays in the hospital wing made him smirk for a moment and unthinkingly comment, "Getting hurt is a bit like riding a bike as well. Experience lends the knowledge of how long Madam Pomphrey's going to be keeping her eagle eye on you."  
  
"Quite," Snape agreed without pause. "One would think she took personal insult when a human body under her charge was in less than perfect condition." He blinked afterwards, as startled as Harry who had looked up to stare at him again. "I've no idea where that came from," Snape noted with a briefly furrowed brow. "She is a hospital matron of some sort?"  
  
"Yes," Harry quietly replied. "At Hogwarts." In an effort to distract himself from recalling his state of mind the last time he was in the hospital, Harry turned his concentration back to the makeshift splint and tried to strengthen his emotional wall again.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Harry finished making near to inconsequential adjustments to the splint on Severus' leg, and Severus instinctively tried to lift his head to squint at the results. He felt himself gasp at the sudden twinge and pulling at his neck, but before he accidentally did himself more harm, Harry quickly reached up to support Severus' head from falling back too fast to the sheet covered wood. Severus suddenly felt a chill wash through him- overwhelming but refreshing- before images passed before his eyes.  
  
  
//He awoke to the youthful but stern features of the nurse-in-training, Ms Pomphrey. "You've just gotten your first broken leg, Mr. Snape. Now lie still.//  
  
  
//The charismatic man in robes smiled, "I've heard much about you already from Mr. Malfoy and your father."//  
  
  
//The dark haired man looked at him from over their softly simmering cauldron. "They never found who killed your mother, Severus."//  
  
  
//A sneer graced the features of a young man in red and gold Quiddich robes, his long dark hair flowing behind him as he flew towards Severus with the Quaffle in hand.//  
  
  
//Blackness... and the sound of chanting... something tearing at him... at his mind... he screamed.//  
  
  
  
Severus' eyes shot open. Harry looked as though he wanted to take Severus to task for almost hurting himself, but the expression changed in favor of frowning at Severus' outward reaction- whatever it had been. "Are you alright," he asked, rubbing his hands together as though they were chilled after settling Severus' head back down.  
  
"I... think so," rasped Severus. "Just now... I saw- heard... perhaps remembered... something." Finding the flood of disjointed thoughts difficult to describe, Severus fell silent rather than try to move his head again.  
  
Again with the air of one trying to decide whether to risk fiddling with a ticking bomb, Harry asked, "Can you sort any of it out?" This prompted Severus to again wonder just what he'd been like previously; he filed that question away for the moment to focus upon the fleeting impressions.  
  
"It was a rush of images, words, all from different times, I think. It was all so fast, I could barely absorb it before the next assaulted me. How long was I..."  
  
"Just a few moments," Harry replied, rubbing his hands together again. Turning to squint at the dappled sunlight making its way through the roof of the shack, he commented, "This place is drafty, and I think it might be getting colder tonight. I haven't seen a trace of the man who'd been after us when I was out looking for food. There's a small stream about half a mile away from here, but nothing around to carry the water in. The containers in the shed here are all rusted or coated with oil and chemicals... I was wondering..."  
  
"Yes?" prompted Severus. Harry was showing a pleasing amount of native intellect, even if he was a.... a what?  
  
"Are you carrying any potions- or bottles?"  
  
Severus blinked. "Potions? If I was, I'd expect they'd have broken or that I'd feel their bulk on me."  
  
Harry shook his head, his glasses reflecting the indirect light from outside. His words were spoken quickly, as though afraid of being derided before he could finish, "Some of your containers have unbreakable charms on them... and you might have shrunk them to carry easily. That's not a spell we've learned yet in class."  
  
Moments passed before Severus lifted his arms to carefully search his robes with the sluggishness of someone on the edge of exhaustion. As his right hand searched within the left sleeve of his robe, Severus asked without thinking, "Where is my...." Words failed him as the memory for the word slipped away, but Harry came to the rescue with an almost hopeful smile.  
  
"Your wand? I brought it with us." Again his words came rapidly, "I can't use it; it doesn't seem to like me much, and I'm afraid of what might happen if you tried using it again. The last time it hurt you even though it worked a little."  
  
Harry's words came to a halt when Severus produced a dark silver box from within his right sleeve. The box seemed to be made of hematite and was slender, resting easily in Severus' hand, cool to the touch. Curious, he reached for the latch which gave off a small spark at the contact and then opened. Within the box were four tiny bottles nestled within velvet lining.   
  
Severus lightly ran one finger down the elegant line of a bottle as he searched for recollection that was not there. Next to him, Harry crouched and looked at the box as well. "Wicked," he softly exclaimed as he bent for a closer look. "Are they labeled? Do you know what they are?"  
  
"No, and no," Severus murmured in return. "They do seem to be filled with something." His fingers trembled, so he aborted his movement to take one of them out from the box as they seemed unutterably delicate in appearance.  
  
"Now all we'd need to do is to figure out what they're for, and enlarge them to the proper size- that is, if these aren't their proper size," Harry sighed. "If one of them is a healing draught we'd be able to get you up and around in no time."  
  
Peering over at Harry, Severus asked, "What other sorts of things would I be carrying?"  
  
The boy slowly shook his head, again seeming reluctant, "No way of knowing. They could be healing draughts. Could be... truth serum or poison, too."  
  
"Poison? Why would I be carrying poison?" Severus frowned. Having a thirst for knowledge and no issue with asking the questions he needed to get that knowledge, Severus finally decided to voice his curiosity and ask the boy, "What was I like when you knew me before?" 


	8. Enlightenment and Experimentation

A/N: Yes, I said I'd be doing revising and I've started it... but I didn't want to lose my momentum in writing new chapters. Another idea I've had is to revise the story and publish the revised version in one part once the revision is finished.  
  
This chapter's 'goes without saying but is being said anyway' is that I love feedback!  
  
Disclaimers apply as always.   
  
My wedding ring is a happy shiny thing, and so am I when I forget myself.  
  
  
Chapter 8  
  
  
---------------  
  
  
The question hit Harry like a Stupify curse with the same- albeit temporary- results, leaving him speechless for several moments. "... What were you like? Erm. Well. Uh, you taught. And gave out detentions. And... told us when you thought we were being idiots- shouldn't we try and figure out what potions those are?" Harry finished in an uncomfortable rush.  
  
Snape's eyes were still dark as they studied Harry, but they lacked the glacial disdain that were their customary occupants. Instead curiosity lingered there until the man gave a small sigh, "Unless you can identify them by smell or I have an epiphany, I doubt we'll be able to do that without testing them out on something. And unless they can be ... enlarged, there is little enough in them to be wasted on tests."  
  
With a sudden determination to keep Snape off the subject of Harry's past opinion of the Potions master, Harry reached for the box, "Well then, let's see what we can smell." Snape snorted quietly at the statement, but reluctantly handed over the opened hematite box.  
  
Harry squinted through his broken glasses as he peered at the tiny bottles nestled in the black velvet. Two of the bottles were filed with a clear green liquid, the containers themselves having the sleek and graceful curves of a fancy wine bottle. The third was an amber-like color contained in a rectangular bottle with a large square stopper at the top. Harry felt some relief at recognizing the contents of the last bottle- he hoped. "Hey, this bottle looks exactly like the ones Madame Pomphrey used when she gave me some Draught of the Living Death once... And that bottle was a normal sized one, not tiny."  
  
"So then," Snape murmured, "We know that at least one of the bottles should be enlarged, so the same might be true of the others." In a mildly humoring tone of voice, Snape asked, "What did that draught do for you; it sounds rather unpleasant."  
  
"That's what I thought at first," Harry smirked, forgetting his troubles for the moment as he shifted his seat on the rough wooden floor so that he blocked the slanting sunlight from Snape's face again. Finding a terrible sort of amusement in lecturing his Potions master about his own potions, Harry continued, "Actually what it does is puts you into a very deep sleep that prevents any dreaming." With a small snicker, he added, "It's asphodel in an infusion of wormwood."  
  
The older man blinked once, his lips slowly framing the words 'asphodel' and 'wormwood', seeming to test them out... to analyze the rhythm of the syllables. "Let me see that bottle," was the firm request afterwards.  
  
Delicately prizing the bottle from its velvety home, Harry held it up for Snape's inspection, the liquid inside the half-full bottle shimmering as it moved in Harry's trembling hand.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
//"A bitter taste on the tongue, a heavy weight on the mind." Severus heard his Potions professor comment as he lectured. "There is a reason the potion was given its rather melodramatic label, and that is due to its long-term side effects. The Draught of Living Death is useful as a restorative when applied properly, however it is not recommended for repetitive use." The elder professor slowly paced the front of the room as he continued on, delving into other medicinal potions, his pace deliberate as he cast occasional glances at his students to measure their attentiveness.  
  
After class, Lucius approached Severus as they returned to their dormitory. "An interesting potions class today," he commented before the door closed behind them, securing their privacy. "I wonder what sort of side effects the Living Death potion would cause; sounds perfectly insidious. Do you think that Tom would be interested?"  
  
Severus set his book bag on his bed before settling there himself, the darkness of the green curtains contrasting with the paleness of his pallor which had increased over the last year. "The Draught of Living Death," Severus corrected, "Is not a new invention; I am certain that Tom knows all about it and its properties. It is insidious, true, but that insidiousness is in the potential harm it can cause one to do to oneself when it is being taken to... relieve oneself. The problems that the draught is usually given for are minor issues. But when faced with chronic problems at their worst, it will usually result in the user wanting or needing to take repetitive doses despite the fact that the draught is not addictive. On top of that, the body can build up an immunity to some of the effects, so that a larger dose would be required as well. Thus you can see that unmonitored, a person can quite easily do a great deal of harm to himself without realizing it."  
  
"But what are the long-term effects?" Lucius inquired, his eyes sparkling with interest as he sat opposite Severus on his bed.  
  
"As this is a potion that affects the mind which is linked to how one uses one's magic, the effects are changeable and according to the individual. Past cases... and past testing... has ranged from radical personality changes to total insanity," Severus murmured, his eyes lowered to the green bedspread and the Slytherin crest before him.//  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
"... Profess- Severus?"  
  
Severus' brow furrowed at the lowered level of liquid in the bottle before he looked back up at Harry. "I believe that I am ... slowly recalling things. I just remembered a conversation that I had once about this... potion." Deciding there was something dark he didn't like about the memory that he didn't want to discuss, Severus pointed to the small box Harry held. "Let me see the others."  
  
Harry replaced the tiny bottle containing the Draught of Living Death and carefully took out one of the twin bottles for inspection, holding it up to the light within Severus' view. It quietly sparkled like liquid emerald, a match for the boy's eyes behind the damaged glasses. "Open it, please. But don't smell it; let me do that in case it is harmful."  
  
"But you're still hurt," Harry objected.  
  
"All the more reason to make certain at least one of us is fully functional. And if I used to be your professor, it would be more than remiss of me to allow you to come to harm."  
  
Wide eyed, Harry delicately held the open bottle towards Severus. From instinct, Severus first held his hand briefly near the bottle's opening but felt no reaction, then wafted the fumes towards himself as he remained reclined. Wordless thoughts flickered through his head with fleeting touches which began to solidify themselves more when Harry nervously touched his right arm. "Hmmmmm. Mandrake, I think.... I smell Mandrake which is in most restorative draughts."  
  
"That's great," Harry exclaimed, perhaps at the news of what the potion might be or perhaps that Severus was remembering more. Whichever it was, the boy seemed just a little more animated than before... which gave Severus something else to wonder about. Why had the boy been given a dose of the Draught of Living Death?  
  
Severus' attention was drawn away when the boy had set down the bottle on the cloth at Severus' side to reach into the box for the other one. After a few moments of being untouched, the bottle seemed to shift- and then grow in size until it looked like it might hold a half a liter of liquid. "Well," Severus noted, a little breathless at his first actual witnessing of magic while awake, "That seems to have answered that little problem."  
  
For a moment Harry grinned a bit manically as though witnessing the first sign of salvation in far too long before he put down the box and grabbed for the enlarged bottle. "I hope you don't mind drinking from this."  
  
"I believe that considering the circumstances I can forgo the goblet. I'll require some aid in sitting up enough, however." Harry shifted around at Severus' side for better leverage before Severus felt a cool hand and arm slowly insinuate itself under his neck and back. For a moment the movement sparked pain, but it swiftly subsided before he was lifted enough that the contents of the bottle wouldn't pour over him before he could swallow it.  
  
"Try just a little at first," Harry suggested, lifting the heavier bottom end of the bottle and letting Severus guide the bottle's mouth. Severus shot the boy a mild glare at the suggestion that he'd considered doing differently.  
  
The droplets he tried were surprisingly refreshing despite the sharp unpleasantness of the taste. That sharpness made him feel just a little more aware, however, and he made an intrigued noise as a comment to Harry before taking a small mouthful and swallowing. "Calendula," Severus murmured thoughtfully. With a slight shiver he added, "Caffeine or Ephedra. Definitely a restorative," he noted as he was feeling much better. Taking a last careful swallow, Severus lifted the bottle's mouth towards Harry. "You should have a little as well; you may not be wounded, but you look worse for wear and bruised."  
  
Eyeing Severus, Harry muttered, "I don't have to ask if you've recovered your memory," before setting the container down and lowering Severus back to the floor. Harry picked up the bottle again and thoroughly wiped its mouth with the least soiled spot of his shirt, hesitantly taking the advised sip. All Severus could do is wonder again at what was behind Harry's words and feel sheer relief at the gradual lessening of his body's pains.  
  
"It appears to be getting towards evening. Unless you think the pursuer you mentioned would come upon us soon, I would suggest resting here for the night and letting the potion do its work. I should be able to move tomorrow if my improvement from this morning continues." Severus paused to measure Harry's reaction before adding, "You have looked towards my health and safety, Harry, and I would like to thank you."  
  
Severus didn't know whether to be amused, concerned or irritated at the renewed expression of shock on Harry's face.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
A/N: I must say that the web is a wonderful source for research on potions, herbs and anything else one might care to name...  
  
Thank you for reading. :) 


	9. Disturbances and Deception

Ch. 9  
  
A/N: My customary thanks for reading and for my reviewers. Disclaimers apply. I've a bit of Latin in this chapter, so let me apologize to anyone who knows the rules for Latin words as I'm sure I've mangled it up. I've put a glossary at the end of the chapter for those certain words that haven't come up before. Hoping that everyone is well.  
  
-------------  
  
  
Harry awoke from his already fitful sleep to find Snape twitching in his own disturbed slumber. Deciding to take a look around and listen for their curiously absent pursuer, Harry got to his feet with the aches of one who had just spent a few hours trying to spend the night slumped against a wall.  
  
The path to the shed's door was again lit by the moon which had begun the first night's wane from full. As Harry paused before going inside, he fancied he could hear the distant cries of a wolf and he wondered about the presence of werewolves in upstate New York. Cautiously he peeked out through the cracks in the wood.  
  
The forest was flooded with dappled moonlight and the stars that were visible through the canopy of trees overhead were wondrously bright. The sky was black overhead rather than the navy blue hue that signified the presence of a city or a heavily residential area. Gazing at this tranquil scene, Harry was interested to find himself calm and nearly at peace... aware of the sleeping presence at his back without the brooding anxiety that had so characterized his past interactions with the teacher he was beginning to think of as a man rather than a manifestation of unfairness and hatred towards him. Harry spent some time on an occasional topic of thought for those nights he couldn't sleep. What was the cause behind Snape's reactions?  
  
More recently, he'd learned about Snape's secret work for Dumbledore- he could imagine the pressure of having to maintain his cover and remain so close to someone like Voldemort. The past day was an eye-opener, however. There was definitely more to Snape than even Snape himself might be aware of; the conversation he'd overheard during the reaction between Snape's Dark Mark and Harry's scar...  
  
A cry of distress was uttered behind him, along with movement. Harry spun around and made his way back to Snape who appeared to be having what measured to be a terrible nightmare. Carefully sitting down at Snape's right side to avoid proximity to the Dark Mark, Harry pressed a hand on Snape's chest to keep Snape from moving and causing himself further harm. He tried to awaken Snape, but the man didn't respond, his eyes moving beneath their lids as though in dream or vision.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
//Severus awoke from yet another night of restless dreams that shifted from memory as soon as he tried to grasp them. Exhaling and wiping at the fine sheen of sweat that dotted at his forehead, Severus rose from his bed in the dormitory and soundlessly made his way to the bathrooms with the ease of practice in walking without light. A moment's difficulty passed when he came upon one of Crabbe's oversized shoes on the floor, but soon enough he was ensconced inside the lavatory with the company of his dimly lit wand.  
  
Cool water from the sink washed the rest of the dream's traces away and Severus flipped his hair out of his eyes. He marveled again at how the color had recently been darkening to a closer match for his father's hair rather than the lighter brown of his mother's. Regret was there for the loss of something of himself to remember his mother by, but at the same time he felt a quiet pleasure at taking on another of his father's characteristics; so much so that the pace of the change didn't concern him and he shrugged off the curious questions of his dorm mates and the jeers of his fellow students. The self-named Maraders had taken up and spread the rumor that he used hair grease to darken the color and used the idea to give themselves another name to call him; the "greasy git".  
  
Feeling tired but not sleepily so, Severus opted to get a breath of fresh air rather than listen to the sounds of the others sleeping for the rest of the night. There was a window near to the top of the dungeon stairwell that he recently found and occasionally spent time gazing out of. Being caught by Filch would have been a concern of his if it hadn't been for the cleaning potion he had brewed up one time after hearing the caretaker mutter angrily about the resultant ugly stains from the inficio hex which were near to impossible to remove from stone and wood.  
  
Severus was of course very careful to make certain he wasn't among those caught using the hex as its effects upon a body and mind were worse than their effect on inanimate material. In keeping with Slytherin craftiness he also took steps to brew the cleansing potion which put him in Filch's good books - limited as they were.  
  
Reaching the top of the stairs, Severus suddenly grew sleepy and leaned for a moment against the wall next to the intended target of the window... and fell into a trace-like sleep. Under this influence, he took out his wand, cast a nullifying spell in a toneless voice and climbed out the windows to the ground just below. His path across the grass led him straight to the Forbidden Forest and eventually just outside the boundaries of Hogwarts protections where he was met by a cloaked and hooded figure. Without conversation, the figure put his hand on Severus' shoulder and Apparated the both of them to another forested area.  
  
It was here that other figures waited, also cloaked and hooded apart from a familiar looking charismatic man who took charge of the unaware Severus. Walking on auto-pilot, Severus followed the man to one side where the man had Severus recline atop a stone slab and sink into full unconsciousness with a magical charm.  
  
Turning to his followers, the man regarded them with the awareness of just what was required to maintain their loyalty to him. With a powerful voice only subtly altered by his magics, he spoke. "At last the preparations have been completed. We have become aware of this nexus and the potential for its use in the future. Until the time is right, I will see to it that this nexus- this boy- is kept under our control. Through your diligent efforts and my power, this key will be ours to use when circumstance demands it. Until that time it will lay dormant, unknown to everyone, even to himself. The changes being wrought in him will distance him from our enemies and keep him within our sphere of influence. Once he is of age he will become one of us, but he will be our tool to use as needed."  
  
"Remove his wand," ordered the man, quickly obeyed by one of the figures who lingered an extra moment to gaze at Severus before returning to the small group who then moved to encircle the stone slab and the two there. The man produced his wand, cast "Obliviate" and started chanting a complex string of spell words under his breath. A breeze began to stir the area and the robes of all those gathered. The man's wand moved with precise and fluid movements over the younger man's trembling body as he worked. Few words drifted loudly enough to be heard, but they seared themselves into Severus' subconscious; "... excido ... pareo ... dominatus ... teneo ..." and finally, "Obfuscate!"  
  
  
  
  
Darkness swirled into a dizzying whirlpool of thought and recollection... refocusing upon another scene.  
  
  
  
  
A robed man with white hair and beard stood over Severus, gazing at him sadly as the young man slept on a bed located in what looked to be a hospital wing. One hand reached out to gently rest upon Severus forehead, a whispered charm sending Severus further into peaceful slumber.  
  
Further seconds passed when an older woman came up behind the man, her expression stern and disapproving even as she looked to the man for confirmation. "Albus, must you really do this to the boy? It isn't proper; what is to keep us from becoming like Mr. Riddle?"  
  
The man called Albus seemed to grow increasingly sad at those words, but he murmured, "The difference is in intention, Minerva. The thought behind the action. It is for protection, my dear. Protection for the wizarding community as a whole, and for himself as well.  
  
And so Albus began to speak words that seared themselves into Severus' subconscious.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Sunlight streamed once more through the door and walls of the shed, only partially stirring the exhausted Harry awake from where he still sat next to Snape. It became a lot easier to wake up soon afterwards however, when Snape sat up with a gasp of shock but not of overwhelming pain as he pushed past Harry's hand. Or rather, not overwhelmingly physical pain.  
  
There was horror in Snape's eyes as he screamed, "Albus!"  
  
  
-----------------------------  
A/N: I've always been fond of the concept that there are certain things even the good guys must do sometimes...  
  
-----------------------------  
(taint) inficio -ficere -feci -fectum (1) [to tinge , dye, stain; to steep, imbue]. (2) [to poison, taint, corrupt].   
  
(memory) excido (1) -cidere -cidi [to fall out , fall away, be lost]; of words, [to slip out unawares, escape]; of ideas, [to pass from memory or thought, be forgotten].   
  
(Obey) pareo -ere [to appear , become evident]. Transf. [to obey, give way to; to be subject to, serve (with dat.)]; partic. parens -entis, [obedient].   
  
(Power) dominatus -us m. [mastery , absolute power].   
  
(Restrain) teneo tenere tenui tentum [to hold; to possess , keep, preserve, maintain; to understand, grasp, know, remember; to contain, comprise]; milit. [to occupy, garrison; to master, restrain, keep back; to charm, delight, amuse]; intransit. [to keep on, persevere, persist, endure].   
  
http://catholic.archives.nd.edu/cgi-bin/lookdown.pl 


	10. Tonic and Tourism

A/N: I wanted to thank everyone as usual for reading and for the thoughtful reviews I've received; especially blueyed-angel who kindly offered help with my horrific version of Latin. Her comments also taught me yet another lesson about making assumptions. I took the word 'Obfuscate' with the mistaken knowledge that the word means something along the lines of 'hiding something from view' and meant that definition for the word. Sorry! Disclaimers apply as always.  
  
I've gotten more than one comment about the pacing and the inactivity of the Bad Guys; I just wanted to let you know that I know what they're doing... and that Chapter 9 was actually only the second night that Harry and Snape spent in the shed. The pace should be picking up soon; have no fear. This chapter is a little late due to my unfortunate encounter with the stomach flu, so I tried to make it a little longer.  
  
  
  
Ch. 10  
  
  
-------------  
  
Severus realized that he felt hands upon his chest after abruptly waking up and crying out the name. In a moment of blind panic he scrambled backwards until his back met with the rough surface of a wall made of wooden planks. Trying to get his breath under control, he eventually became aware of someone talking to him with rapidly paced words; he let his eyes follow the voice to its source... he remembered the boy. Harry.  
  
"... It's me. you're safe- well at least for now, I mean. Whatever you were dreaming isn't here. Well at least I hope it's not here from what you seem to think of it- Sorry. Just calm down; I'm the only sentient being other than you within- well, at least- some distance. Maybe you should be just listening to my tone of voice; I don't seem to be doing well in the reassurance end of things where words are concerned. But it's not all that bad, really. Yes, that's it, remember where you are now..."  
  
Gradually the words and their meanings penetrated the dull horror surrounding Severus' consciousness, helping him calm down further although it didn't lessen the impact of the source of his distress. He lifted a hand, staying Harry's rambling monologue so that he could attempt to frame one of his own. "... Dream. ... but it was so real... I believe it may be ... further memories returning to me."  
  
The immediateness of the situation must have taken hold of Harry as he seemed to forget to be wary in his concern and his wish for knowledge. "You said the name again. Albus. That's Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster," he prompted.  
  
Again the realization that came with the most recent recollection took a hold of Severus and he slowly shook his head with disbelief. He tried to deny the possibility - the man he felt such trust of when he first saw him in the dream... doing such a similar thing that the other... man did. What they did... and why. He still didn't understand fully, but he was determined to figure it out.   
  
In the meantime, Severus took a steadying breath and murmured, "My health seems to have further improved." Harry looked ready to protest the change of subject, but Severus quickly continued, "With assistance I believe I could make it outside, and I would very much appreciate the chance to take care of certain physical necessities." Harry's protest reluctantly died upon his lips and the boy stood. From his expression however, Severus knew that the subject would be coming up again soon. To further distance it from the immediate presence, Severus added, "It would be best for us both to take another dose of that draught as well. How are you feeling?"  
  
"Better, sir- I mean- Severus," Harry replied when Severus gave him a meaningful look at the honorific. "The bruises are gone."  
  
"Good. Fetch the potion. With luck, we'll start travelling within the hour." Harry retrieved the bottle, opening it and cleaning the top of it before offering it to Severus who had delicately leaned himself back against the wall. Showing further improvement, Severus was able to lift the bottle on his own to take a measured swallow. Contemplatively murmuring the names of another few herbs, he passed the bottle back to Harry who cleaned the top again.   
  
"This doesn't do harm if you don't have anything to heal, does it?" Harry asked, eyeing the contents through the opening.  
  
"If you're a student of mine and I'm teaching potions, shouldn't you know that from the ingredients I've named so far?" Severus was somewhat amused but no longer disbelieving of the idea of his being a teacher, although still unused to the concept of having advanced so far beyond his recent memory of his school years.  
  
Harry's reply came out as more of a mumble, "Er... I'm not the best at Potions, sir- Severus."  
  
Severus was further amused, but tched at the reply. "The potion is a healing balm, but it is also helpful as a bolster against that which can weaken the body."  
  
"Very useful," Harry commented after a swig. "I can see why you kept that much with you." After carefully closing the container, he set it down to one side.  
  
"It is a rather large amount," Severus considered with a puzzled frown at the bottle, transferring his gaze to the sleeve in which he had replaced the small box. "Enough to heal one person over several times between the two bottles. Was I also a... healer of some sort? Did I visit the wounded?"  
  
Harry choked a little at the idea, briefly muttering, "Not quite. Let's just say this is probably not the first time you've needed the potions." As he spoke the words Harry grew very thoughtful, as though considering something he'd never realized before. Wanting to review his own thoughts and potential memories, Severus allowed the subject to drop for the moment.  
  
"Let's be on about it, then." Severus gathered his feet below him and cautiously pressed against the wooden wall behind him. When the wall creaked alarmingly, he sighed and moved to accept more of Harry's aid to lift himself to his unsteady feet. Closing his eyes, Severus waited a few moments for the slight dizziness he had to lessen itself. When it had mostly subsided, he opened his eyes and moved to take his first cautious step.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
The trip outside wasn't without difficulty, but it was eventually accomplished with the use of the detached broom handle as a sturdy walking stick. Harry politely turned his back and hastily put a few very large trees between him and Snape while the professor did his... business. He'd speculated returning to the shelter of the shed altogether, but his conscience demanded that he remain within reasonable listening distance should Snape run into a problem. At least a problem that didn't involve his... business.  
  
Thankfully there were no mishaps, and Snape stood leaning heavily against one of the large trees next to the shack since they risked the shack falling over if it was used as a prop instead. //Good shack. Good shack. Don't fall on us before we go,// Harry mentally told the shed, patting it lightly and receiving an odd look from Snape as a result. "I'll get the broom and those cloths for us to use later," Harry called before going in. "How is your leg holding up?"  
  
"I don't think I'll need the splint for too much longer. Perhaps tomorrow," Snape replied in his thoughtful too-young voice. It wasn't that Snape sounded like a kid, Harry decided as he started to collect and fold the covers. It was that there was little trace of biting sarcasm, irritation, anger, impatience or just downright hatred in his mannerisms. Giving the shed one last visual sweep for anything useful, Harry grabbed the broomstick and thankfully quit their unstable shelter for the much fresher air outside.  
  
The air appeared to be more agreeable to Snape as well who was taking slow deep breaths of it, no doubt to flush out the tang of motor oil and sawdust from his lungs, Harry figured. As he approached, Snape greeted him with the question of, "Did you see any sign of habitation during your time here?"  
  
Glad to see Snape continuing to take an active part in their survival, Harry shook his head and pointed. "The only thing showing that anyone ever comes here is the small road in that direction about a mile off. It's paved but it looks like it was done a long time ago. No paint on the road splitting it into lanes- not that it's really large enough for two lanes- and no traffic signs on it for at least an hour from that direction," and again Harry pointed in the general direction that he had come from when he was still in the car with the Dursleys. "At least I think it might have been an hour, but I was terribly bored on the drive and Dudley was taking up most of the backseat, so I could be wrong about the amount of time." He decided to bring that aspect of his monologue to a halt at Snape's curiously arched eyebrow. Continuing his description he indicated the opposite direction, "There's a small stream that way in about one half of a mile that had some bushes nearby and an apple tree on the way. We should get some water if we're going to travel, plus I don't want to go back in the direction that guy came from. I'm hoping that when you've healed more you might be able to do magic again without getting hurt." With that information relayed, Harry took a pause for breath.  
  
Taking a breath of his own, Snape murmured, "Let's head for the stream then. You can finally tell me the full story of what has happened since you were left here on your own." Harry wasn't certain of it, but he thought Snape gave him a sympathetic look that he decided to not think about. With Harry's lack of response, Snape added, "It would be best for me to be aware of everything involved; there isn't a reason that I can see to avoid the topic any longer."  
  
* * * * * 


	11. Summaries and Summoning

A/N: Thank you as always to everyone who is reading and especially to those who review. As you'll see I take what is said in reviews into account when developing the story. I'm taking this chapter as an opportunity to review what lead up to the events in the story as there were a few people who didn't seem to understand from the snippets I put into it.  
  
Disclaimers apply as always.  
  
-------------------------------------  
  
Ch. 11  
  
  
Harry found himself thankful as he and Snape started to walk off towards the stream he'd found the day before while foraging. Sitting in the shed keeping watch over an occasionally unconscious Snape had been no picnic, and he was glad to be doing something that at the very least seemed to be progress, out in the fresh air.  
  
Beside him Snape limped as he walked, moving at a brisk but careful pace and using his walking stick which made soft thunks in the layer of dirt and decomposing leaves that covered the forest ground. "Unless you're unused to exercise, you should start telling me the background leading up to our current situation while we travel."  
  
Harry glanced aside at Snape, a dark smirk wanting to find its way to his expression from the almost Snapelike statement, but instead he felt a wash of uncertainty and sighed. Keeping his pace even with the still hurt man, Harry began.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Hurry up, boy. Or you'll be going without anything to wear on the trip."  
  
At the time, Harry felt a touch of disbelief at that particular threat from Uncle Vernon; he didn't imagine his uncle would tolerate Harry causing his family any discomfort having to wear the same dirty clothes which would eventually start to smell, or to have to make Dudley give up any of his current wardrobe- or even worse- to have to purchase something else for Harry to wear.   
  
In hindsight Harry understood now. Vernon didn't care if Harry took anything with him because he wouldn't be with the Dursleys for much longer. Vernon knew what was going to happen once he brought Harry to America. Harry just wondered what the actual arrangements were and how they were made. Not that it mattered much any longer.  
  
Harry hefted one of Dudley's old and torn backpacks to one shoulder, filled with as many of the overlarge clothes he could cram in, "Coming, Uncle Vernon," he called to the downstairs landing as he headed for the stairwell only to be nearly knocked down the stairs as Dudley came running at him from behind. Catching himself with difficulty, Harry just knew the trip was going to be yet another time he'd rather forget. Just like...  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Just like what?" Severus asked, glancing curiously at the boy walking at his side. Now that he was on his feet it brought across more strongly the difference between his few memories and now. His hands were different, not to mention his wiry frame. The former were tapered and dexterous as well as showing a few scars that numbered among the many things he was currently unaware of. But the largest difference was in his height; he felt slightly disoriented at the change in distance from the ground from his memories and the sudden addition of several inches in reality.  
  
Harry looked rather uncomfortable and muttered, "It's a long story," putting extra energy into his next few strides as though trying to get away from his thoughts. It took the boy a few paces ahead, and Severus worked to close the distance with just a little more effort from his long legs.   
  
Taking another breath, Severus decided that it was likely that Harry had been avoiding the issue for much longer than he'd been in his company. "Summarize, then," Severus suggested with a deliberately dry and irritated tone to his voice in the hopes it would distract Harry from his inner conflict long enough to get him talking. "Use your developing literary skills. This sounds to be part of the issue, and as such I should be aware of it."  
  
"Fine," Harry growled and came to a sudden halt to face Severus. "Last school year there was a competition called the Tri-wizard Tournament. An evil man named Voldemort commanded that it should be arranged that I was in the tournament so that they could use the last task to transport me away to him. The only problem is that I didn't get transported alone; one of my classmates was with me. They killed him." Harry's voice broke, and he looked away from Severus. "... They should have killed me, too."  
  
Severus' hands clenched his walking stick as he stared at the boy whose expression was far too old for his age. Uncertainly, he murmured, "I'm ... sorry. I was unaware that the thing bothering you was that serious."  
  
"What did you think it was? My awakening hormones? Perhaps I was turned down by a girl I had a crush on?" Harry's words were bitter, and he remained turned away, "It seems I'm not allowed such normal problems- no, not me. Not," And Harry smiled bitterly, "Harry Potter, the Celebrity."  
  
Severus didn't know what to say to that, so he allowed the silence to lengthen. Eventually, Harry resumed walking in the direction of the stream, and Severus followed. With a sigh and a shake of his head, Harry resumed his story.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Traveling with his family in close quarters felt excruciatingly long, but the whole of it blurred together into a steady level of the usual verbal and emotional abuse which Harry just packed away or ignored in favor of his own self-recriminations. He became less and less responsive which made Uncle Vernon more and more annoyed with him and more than willing to vent his displeasure upon the ready target Harry made. Some of the black and blue marks Harry currently had weren't from the fall from the car.  
  
"Damnit, boy, get your lazy body out of bed and start packing the luggage into the car!"  
  
Harry avoided most of the kick that his uncle aimed at him and got up from his 'bed' of the floor where he'd used his sweater for a pillow. Aunt Petunia was sitting at the hotel room's table, pouring over a map and chattering at Dudley over likely places she would take him for a lovely breakfast. Dudley himself hadn't yet rousted himself from his bed in the room, lounging in his pajamas as he listened contentedly to his mother's gustatory options.  
  
Silently and holding his side, Harry got to work.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"From Uncle Vernon's last comment before they dumped me out on the road, I think that he was approached by Voldemort or one of his Death Eaters to do that so that they could come and get me. What I want to know is why you got shot down like that."  
  
"Like what?" Severus asked, spotting the stream in the distance with a touch of thankfulness.  
  
"From what it sounded like, you got hit with a hex- maybe even the Cruciatus- then crashed your broom into a tree and fell. I found you unconscious next to a cracked tree with the broomstick broken."  
  
Severus arched an eyebrow and diverted his attention from their goal to the boy walking at his side. "Do you mean to say I was flying the thing when I came here?"  
  
"Yup," Harry replied unrepentantly.  
  
"And this person who shot me down. You think it was one of those ... Death Eaters?"  
  
"It makes the most sense; no one else knew I was here. Unless you heard about this from Voldemort and told Headmaster Dumbledore."  
  
Severus almost tripped as he suddenly halted and his splint made it more difficult to keep his balance. Control reasserted over his body, he stared at Harry. "What do you mean by that?"  
  
Harry looked up at him almost sheepishly, "Oh yeah. You didn't hear about that part. Um. Remember your tattoo?"  
  
Severus' hand moved to his left arm in a movement that somehow felt habitual. "I remember... it hurt. You said that he was... summoning me."  
  
Harry looked left and right as though checking that no one was in the area listening in. Little chance of that; the visible forest was deserted apart from the natural wildlife that was out of sight but not out of hearing distance. "Well, I don't know all of it, but I know that you work for Headmaster Dumbledore. Not just as a potions master, I mean. As a spy. The ... last time I saw you, you were about to ... return to Voldemort. To see what you could learn."  
  
Frowning, Severus made a gesture to encompass their situation as a whole, "And now this."  
  
"Yeah," Harry sighed as they started towards the stream again. "Now this."  
  
As though in response to their last topic of conversation, Severus suddenly felt a searing pain that traveled swiftly from his arm to his brain. With a gasp, he slowly crumpled to the ground, Harry's voice sounding like a distant and distorted roar in his ears before another voice overwhelmed his senses, sinister and sibilant.  
  
/I've been informed of your whereabouts, Severus. I didn't send you there. Come to me now before I find I must punish you further./ 


	12. Recollection and Rejuvenation

A/N: Just to make certain it's clear, everything between the single slash marks is "telepathic" conversation. Thank you as always for reading and even more if you review; reading those makes my day. Disclaimers apply unto eternity.  
  
  
Chapter 12  
  
  
Harry crouched over Snape's trembling form which was curled up into a fetal ball, his arm cradled protectively against his chest and his features creased into silent agony. His lips started to move, choking out words that were difficult for Harry to hear. ".... no.... I can't .... I don't remember ... Please, no ... I've lost my memory ... I speak the truth ... Why do you do this? ... "  
  
Finally, Harry couldn't take watching Snape without acting. Perhaps out of an instinctive desire to offer comfort, to help him somehow, Harry reached out to touch Snape's side, careful as ever to avoid contact with his left arm. He was startled but somehow not entirely surprised to suddenly hear Snape's voice magnified as he cried, "I don't understand!" ... and in the distance, another voice with sibilant and unpleasant overtones.  
  
/Oh, you will understand soon enough, Severus./ The sound of the voice gave Harry another instinctive reaction to hide himself from detection, but his wish to help Snape kept him in contact with his arm. With that wish Harry felt himself grow calm, almost as though he was suspended in a bubble, shielded from danger. The voice continued, /I'll be sending Lucius to fetch you and the person with you- then we shall see about your memories. In the meantime.../  
  
The wash of sensation that hit Harry inside his bubble was enough to make Harry break contact and throw him a few feet away from Snape's curled up form. The waves of power that emanated from Snape's body were like heat and felt just as painful from the sound of Snape's harsh screams. Harry shook his head as though to awaken himself further then moved back towards Snape, knowing he had to take action once more.  
  
Again instinct seemed to take a hold of him, and Harry approached Snape's head where it was tucked in, his face hidden from view by his knees. Kneeling hunched over Snape, Harry wedged his hand in to rest against his feverish forehead and moved his other hand to cradle the nape of his neck. Slowly, Snape's choked sounds of pain decreased, and while the trembling didn't disappear it too grew fainter.   
  
Harry felt something else within him stir, shifting forwards as though flowing from him... seeking out and filling the invisible rents and gaping holes that were slowly revealing themselves in the aura of the body before him. Holes that were already swirling with a malignant darkness that was increasing the damage, widening the existing rents and causing others. It was almost like a faint after-image that could only be seen when one concentrated and looked in a particular direction. Almost like groping in the dark for a wall one expected, only to find it a few feet further than imagined. A sense of alien familiarity... and one that wasn't quite right. Changed from what Harry knew it should be, and he wasn't able to register how he was aware of it. He just knew it needed to be repaired.  
  
First he had to get rid of the immediate cause...  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
The influx of acid that had formally been burning his nerves was slowly tapering off, as though someone had started to close the pipes the acid was coming through and open drains to let it out of him. Soon he was no longer drowning in the stuff, and there was a new sensation- but one that wasn't entirely new somehow. Warmth hovered near him, uncertain and hesitant before there was a small contact upon that which had been flayed. With that one touch, that area no longer burned.  
  
Despite the soothing touch, he retreated out of the need to withdraw from the rest of the overwhelming burning, the confusion and frustrated helplessness, the need to think and understand what happened.  
  
But as he withdrew, he felt something of the warm presence follow.  
  
* * * * *  
  
//Severus stepped into the wide expanse of the Malfoy Mansion foyer with Lucius, the Malfoy's house elves having taken charge of their trunks inside the carriage. "Nice place you have," Severus murmured with dry humor to the blonde at his side.  
  
"It suits me well enough," Lucius returned with a smirk. "It's been in the family for generations, of course." A gesture at the framed parchment which magically recorded the Malfoy's genealogy demonstrated without words the centuries that had passed in the halls of stone and polished wood, lavish with tasteful tapestries. "Follow me to the guest rooms; you have time to freshen up before we meet my parents and their guest for dinner."  
  
Without outward comment, Severus followed. His mind was another matter, his curiosity lashing out at the possibilities of the mysterious someone Lucius had alluded to a few times previously that year.  
  
Dinner was a formal affair, taking place in the dining room no less lavish than the rest of the mansion. Lucius' parents were charming in a cold, deliberate fashion. The other guest in the manor was a man that Severus found intriguing; he exuded a magnetic charisma without arrogance, and his conversation proved him to be an intellect to reckon with. Chiseled features framed eyes that were dark and held something within them that he couldn't put his finger on.  
  
Despite his interest, Severus kept his own spoken conversation to a minimum, preferring to use the opportunity to listen and measure up the people and the occasion behind the dinner.  
  
Soon after the meal he had expected that Lucius' parents and their guest would retire to the Library for after dinner drinks and conversation, but he didn't expect for him and Lucius to be invited as well. The stranger who had been treated with the utmost respect during dinner only smiled faintly at Severus' surprise before escorting Mrs. Malfoy into the Library with Mr. Malfoy leading the way.  
  
As the group settled into the various chairs and couches by the fireplace, the guest being given the chair of honor which was the central seat of the cluster and gestured for Severus to take one of the chairs by his side. Severus sensed Lucius sitting next to him while the charismatic man smiled, "I've heard much about you already from Mr. Malfoy and your father."  
  
Taking his cue from the behavior he'd witnessed thus far, Severus toned his voice to politeness. "I'm sorry, sir, but I cannot say the same."  
  
"Ah, yes. Not entirely unexpected and certainly nothing you should be concerned about. You may call me Mr. Riddle." The hand extended to him was framed in finely crafted robes that at first looked black, but at closer glance were actually a very deep green. Severus shook the capable hand firmly, but not overly so.//  
  
And there his memories ended.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
The warmth paused as though in observation before it slowly flowed around him, through him; warmed molasses rather than acid. He felt the damaged areas within him that remained, but they no longer pained him as he floated suspended in the warm presence. Finally the presence began to withdraw from him, leaving him behind in the cold, urging him to follow. It was so familiar- as though it was a part of him that was taken away, yet one that he had never touched. Although he was reluctant to do so, he finally emerged with the desire to learn what the warmth was.  
  
The warmth continued to retreat and he reached for it.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Harry opened his eyes and shook his head once again as though awakening from a dream- this time not one of his own. The body on the ground before him stirred slightly, first with a quiet gasp of relief and afterwards with a word croaked from a voice hoarse from screaming.  
  
"... Potter." 


	13. Severence and Scrutiny

A/N: Lucky 13! Ahem.  
Disclaimers apply. Readers and reviewers are thanked profusely. Resistance is futile.  
  
This is me messing up the Latin language again, most likely. Please forgive.  
  
  
Chapter 13  
  
  
Severus stirred from his curled up position, trying to press himself up to a sitting position with only marginal success. Harry came over to pull Severus up the rest of the way and give him something to lean on, still running on his protective instinct. Scowling, Severus looked thoughtful, perhaps sifting through the procession of recent events as though searching through a pile of pyrite ore for true gold. As Severus' eyes fluttered shut Harry felt him shiver in reaction before very promptly opening his eyes again. Harry bravely ventured with his newfound perception, "Professor... Are you all right?"  
  
"Tell me," Severus snarled, "From your observations, what would you imagine would be the case?" Distancing himself both physically and emotionally, Severus pulled himself to his feet with the aid of the walking stick and drew himself up to his formidable height, looming over the still seated Harry.  
  
Rather than recoiling from the tone as he felt he would so recently, Harry quirked a small grin, "Actually, it sounds like you're doing rather better. You sound much more like yourself."  
  
Severus' lip maintained its sneer as he bit off the words, "Let's cease the inane chatter and see about removing ourselves from the area. Unless you've an urge to make your customary meeting with Voldemort early this year." Harry could just feel the wall being thrown up between them as Severus held out one long hand expectantly. "My wand. And fetch the broom from where you dropped it."  
  
Concerned though the remembered hurt that Severus' statement about Voldemort created, Harry hesitated, "Are you sure you won't..." Brave he may be, but he wasn't stupid to overly antagonize Severus in this mood.  
  
"Won't what? Harm myself? No more than I've done in past." The sneer was still present, but it didn't seem entirely focused upon Harry for a few blessed moments. "Fetch the broom and give me my wand - now. Apparition doesn't take long, even if they have to trace the location first." With that, Severus started off in a near parallel to the stream, altering their previous course. Harry ran to get the broom and catch up with Severus' long strides.  
  
"Move, Potter," Severus somehow managed to urge in a low tone while keeping up his rapid pace, "We've got to make enough distance so as to not be seen by whomever is being sent to pick us up." With another more fierce scowl he added, "I imagine you heard some of what passed." As Harry opened his mouth to speak, Severus interrupted, "Don't waste your breath now - just move."  
  
The pace was maintained for a good two miles before Severus let up and leaned heavily against a nearby tree and his walking stick. Harry plopped himself down at Severus' side, sitting against the tree and holding his pocket open for Severus' reach as he panted, "Your wand doesn't seem to like me much." It was a show of how distracted Severus still was that he hadn't taken his wand back earlier.  
  
With a dark smirk, Severus murmured, "I wonder at that." Brief display of humor ended, he turned his attention to his leg and with a practiced swish commanded, "Ossis reparo." From his expression, Harry thought Severus felt a twinge of something, but it could have been the effect of the spell itself as Severus remained standing and conscious, silently bending to remove Harry's makeshift splint from his leg.   
  
With a sigh of relief, Severus next pointed his wand towards Harry who stiffened before realizing it was directed at the broomstick he held. "Baculus reparo," and the cracked wood was completely mended. With each of his actions, Severus' expression became increasingly closed off, his narrowed eyes implying anger but hiding further emotions from view at the same time.  
  
"Carry this," Severus instructed, holding out the splint materials before taking the broomstick from Harry, "And get up now, unless you want to be left behind."   
  
Harry got up swiftly, hoping to at least be able to experiment further with what seemed to be his newfound abilities once they were out of danger. "We're going to Hogwarts now?"  
  
"Not yet." And again there was that unspoken anger as Severus activated and got on the broom, leaving Harry plenty of room behind him, "I trust you'll be able to keep a hold?" he questioned brusquely. Cutting off another question of Harry's before it was voiced, Severus added, "We don't want to leave anything that will help them track us, so at least until we can dispose of the materials at the nearest town you'll need to keep from dropping them.  
  
"Not going to Hogwarts? But why? Headmaster Dumbledore will be there, won't he?"  
  
Severus only gave a reply of a grim stare before kicking off and starting them on their trip.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Snape's muscles felt tense under Potter's careful grip; the whole thing irritated him greatly without even going into the memories piecing themselves together with the passing of every second. The boy was linked to him somehow; that became quickly apparent but no less annoying. He had been mostly cooperative thus far, but Snape didn't expect that to last for much longer. It wasn't his intention to return to Hogwarts for a while- not until he sorted out just what Dumbledore had done to him and what his intentions were.  
  
Instead, Snape turned them southwards towards the nearest civilization he'd noted on the way to collect Har- Potter. They would have to walk a fair distance to the town as he wouldn't chance being spotted flying, but he still wasn't in condition to Apparate two people across the ocean and back to England. Not without splinching.  
  
Potter tapped Snape's arm and pointed downwards at an angle when he got his attention. Following Potter's indication, Snape was able to make out the shape of a distant cabin and put a greater distance between it and them with a smooth change of direction. Potter leaned gracefully into the turn, seemingly happy to spend the time in the air in silence. Apparently he had learned the valuable lesson of 'a closed mouth will gather no flies' in his experience with Quiddich.  
  
Just a few more miles and it would be time to continue at a walk. That is, unless Voldemort activated his Dark Mark again to do another trace on his location. Thankfully the great distance made doing that more difficult as well.  
  
Snape didn't recognize the man in Death Eater robes who shot him down with the Cruciatus curse, nor could he figure out what the reasoning was for Voldemort to cause the Dursleys to bring Potter to such a distant location. Yes, making certain that the boy's protectors weren't easily brought to hand to protect him- but Dumbledore had managed to find out about the plot from one of his other spies, and had sent him to retrieve Potter. A portkey would have been rather helpful in taking care of the trip back, but to risk having such a key fall into the wrong hands was too great this time. Or so Dumbledore said.  
  
Slowly Snape brought the broom to a landing, Potter's feet landing nimbly upon the ground behind him at touchdown. Of course the boy promptly opened his mouth, "So then, when will we be returning? Are we meeting the Headmaster somewhere else?"  
  
"No, we will not be meeting the Headmaster somewhere else," Snape snapped. "He sent me to get to you before someone else did." A pause, and Snape added, "We will be laying low for a while. The longer we remain unseen, the larger the area that must be searched to find us. There aren't too many towns around these mountains, so we will only be stopping for supplies and departing again. The towns will be under scrutiny as well; it will necessitate a glamour charm during our time there."  
  
"Can't you Apparate us back now instead?"  
  
"Despite your-," and Snape bit off his words again, "-miraculous powers of healing, I am not yet in the condition to be able to transport us both across the ocean." Turning away from Potter, Snape strode through the forest, his rejuvenated strides a graceful prowl even as his shredded robes whispered across the leaf strewn floor.  
  
Potter jogged to catch up with him and asked the one question he wasn't quite ready to answer yet. "What caused this new reaction between us?"  
  
----------------------------------  
  
baculum -i n. and baculus -i , m. [a staff, walking stick]. 


	14. Auras and Abodes

A/N: I'm posting this chapter in a rush as I'm going to be away for the weekend, so I'm hoping I haven't made any spelling errors (I'm picky about that!) I hope the changes to the POVs were noted as they were deliberate and not a mistake on my part. As always, I hope you're enjoying the story and thank everyone for reading and reviewing. Disclaimers apply.  
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Chapter 14  
The look that Severus sent over his shoulder only caused Harry to pause for a moment; there was irritation and frustration there, yes, but not true anger. Not enough to disuade Harry from delving into this new distraction which made him feel... something again. Made him feel like he wasn't worthless. "I wasn't able to heal like that before, and I certainly couldn't ..."  
  
Despite himself, Severus prompted as he continued his ground-eating strides, "Couldn't what?"  
  
Risking an outburst, Harry hesitantly replied, "... sense you."  
  
There wasn't an outburst, but Severus' body and aura rang with a sudden tension. "... What -exactly- do you mean?" he ground out.  
  
Harry's hesitation continued until Severus stepped through a patch of shadow which allowed one of the darker colors in his aura to be differentiated from others, letting Harry understand that the source of tension still was not anger but rather uncertainty and the smallest touch of fear. The instinct that was allowing Harry to understand what it was that he was seeing also drove him towards doing something to take away the fear. The darker emotions were jarring to his senses. "It's ... what allowed me to heal you earlier. It's ... new to me, yet I feel almost as though I'd always known. I just hadn't realized- been aware of it."  
  
"What," Severus bit out, "is it?" Apparently he wasn't satisfied with a vague answer, but it was all that Harry had to give.  
  
"I'm sorry, Severus, but I really don't know. It just started the last time your- ... mark started to hurt you, and I touched you. Actually, no... I think it might have started before then when we were in the shed. There was a few times I'd touched you and felt a tingling in my fingers afterwards. And although the healing draught certainly helped, you were really bad off at first yet still recovered more quickly than any unmagical healing would have accounted for."  
  
Irritation took over again, pushing away the fear as Severus growled, "Watch what you say now; we'll be nearing the town soon and there can easily be people hunting or exploring in the woods." Pausing and turning towards Harry, Severus produced his wand from his sleeve, "We'd best see to the glamour now. Hold still."  
  
With a gesture and words mutterd under his breath, Severus cast a spell at Harry who watched in amazement at how the magic interacted with the energies pooled around his aura. Trickes of light seemed to gather itself together at Severus' gesture, slowly forming itself into a subtly colored blanket shape which was then directed at and over Harry, sinking into him. Where there had been color changes in the energy, Harry noticed slight changes in himself although it wasn't constant. His skin appeared to fade in and out of being darker and his glasses appeared and disappeared on the bridge of his nose until all of the changes faded entirely.   
Concerned, Harry asked, "Did it work?"  
  
"Of course it worked. You won't be able to see it or the other changes once it's taken hold because you are too familiar with your own appearance. My own will likely fade away to you because you are expecting it to be there," Severus continued in full lecture mode, "but you will see it briefly so that you may familiarize yourself with what everyone else will be seeing. It would be rather awkward to not react correctly to anyone we might interact with who might be curious."   
  
With that Severus repeated the process, or it seemed that he intended to. Gathering the energy with wand gestures and murmured syllables, Severus worked until another blanket shape took form- however, the shape then faded away without enveloping him first. For a few seconds, Severus looked quite different; his hair was the same color but his skin took on a more tan hue than before and his eyes lightened from an abyssal black to a dark brown. There were also subtle differences to his features; his nose was a little straighter and less hooked, and the deep grooves in his forehead were less apparent. Robes and clothes that were torn and dirty were unchanged, unlike the better fitting clothes that Harry had glimpsed in his own glamour before it faded. Without waiting for comment, Severus turned and resumed his path towards the town.  
* * * * *  
"Uh.... Severus?" Potter ventured from behind him. Again tension roiled through Snape and he slowed a step as he was caught between biting the boy's head off for his presumptiveness of using Snape's given name, frustration at the current situation as a whole, and a defensive need to keep shoring up the newly built wall around him by distancing himself- something that his anger wouldn't be of help with. As he paused, he also remembered allowing Harry to call him by his name when his memories were still eluding him. Weary and still finding his memories slowly trickling back, Snape just shook his head and didn't comment further, continuing on their trip.  
  
Perhaps Potter was suprised by that as he had taken several steps before hearing Potter's footsteps following behind him. "... Severus, why did your glamour work differently than mine?"  
  
Severus' shoulders tensed up again, but not as much as previously as he turned briefly to frown at the boy. "I already implied that the degree which you see the glamour depends upon your familiarity. That and your focus of mind," he added pointedly.  
  
"That's not what I meant; I see you again just fine. It's how the magic moved that I'm questioning."  
  
Snape stopped again and spun around to spear Potter with a disbelieving expression, "More of your newly gained magical abilities?" He kept his tone sarcastic, but his unease grew; he didn't like unknown quantities, especially when they affected himself.  
  
"It looks that way. Along with seeing your... aura, I was able to watch the last two spells you cast- how they formed and moved. Almost how they worked, I think." Potter kept his voice factual and quiet, entirely unlike his father who would have sounded at least proud if not downright smug.  
  
Staring at Potter without expression, Snape came to a decision. "We'll speak of this later, once we've obtained our supplies and are securely settled where we won't be found." Pivoting on his heel, he didn't wait for Potter to follow... not for long anyway.  
* * * * *  
The rest of the trip to the town was made mostly in silence, Severus broodingly so while Harry followed in fascination of the flickers of color surrounding the surly professor. Another facet curious to him is that he didn't see auras around anything else; not trees or even the occasional glimpse of a squirrel or birds that flew overhead. All looked the same as they had before except for Severus.  
  
The town they reached was indeed a small one, and old fashioned looking. First they reached residences made of wood and brick which were nestled among the forest in small clearings, and following the path of the dirt driveways they were able to glimpse the paved road in the distance. As they neared signs of life, Harry thought to point out to Severus the state of his shredded robes and suggested that he carry rather than wear them. Severus' dark outfit beneath wasn't in the best of condition, but it would pass for muggle more easily than flowing strips of cloth.  
  
The town itself consisted mostly of a main road and a few intersections, all lined by quaint storefronts which on the whole wasn't entirely unlike Diagon Alley apart from the contents of the stores themselves. They travelled first to a grocery store and purchased some supplies from muggle money that Dumbledore had given Severus, then on to a camping shop where they had just enough money to purchase one sleeping bag a few thin but soft blankets, and a few camp candles. The shopkeepers looked at the two curiously, but didn't ask questions beyond those normally offered as friendly conversation.  
  
Harry knew better than to further aggrivate Severus during the shopping, and as a result they were headed back out of town in just over an hour later. It was nearing dinnertime although the long hours of summer meant that they still had a few hours left of evening sun and twilight to light their way before full darkness fell. They took advantage of it to continue putting distance between themselves and their point of origin, moving faster once they were out of sight and able to shrink down the bulk of their supplies to a manageable size.  
  
Their next campsite was much more comfortable than the shed, backed against a wall of rock and sheltered from casual sight by the nearby trees and shrubbery with a blanket of leaves on the ground in addition to the opened sleeping bag and blankets to pad them from the ground's chill and hardness. They cooked a meager stew with a magical lightless fire, and as it heated Severus put forward his quiet but sternly voiced concern. "Tell me -exactly- what it is you saw, Potter." 


	15. Energies and Exculpation

A/N: Work has been busy as usual, and I've actually written most of this chapter soon before I posted it. Just a wee little bit longer than other ones which makes me pleased. Thank you as always to my readers and reviewers- it always makes my day to hear your encouraging words. Disclaimers apply as always.  
  
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Chapter 15  
Potter opened his mouth soundlessly, then closed it again to consider his words. A first for him, Snape thought to himself even though he knew the view to be an unfair one. On the edge of patience, Snape waited. Almost as though Potter knew how close he was to losing his temper- of course he would with these new abilities he claimed possession of- Potter quickly gathered his thoughts and spoke. "When you cast the glamour spells... It seemed to make sense for the one you cast on me; there were energies gathering by you which you then directed at me which caused the change in appearance."  
  
"Yes, Potter, that is the theory behind the spell," Snape growled, the wind barely ruffling his hair. "Your point is?"  
  
Shifting uncomfortably and brushing his own hair out of his eyes, Potter matched Snape's irritated gaze with his earnest one. "When you cast the glamour spell at yourself it worked differently. The energies gathered themselves from you... and then they disappated without moving over you. And then your appearance changed. You look like the glamour spell might have been ... removed from you, rather than putting the illusion on you."  
  
Snape was about to reply scathingly out of instinct, but he stopped himself to frown in thought to consider what was said. Just as he was about to ask Potter for further details, he felt a shifting within himself which he couldn't identify, followed swiftly by another which caused a swift escalation of pressure that turned into pain. Angry at this unexplained return of anguish, Snape couldn't stop himself from gasping and falling onto his side to curl up.  
* * * * *  
When Severus suddenly looked to be in pain again, crumpling to the ground, Harry quickly concentrated upon the energies around the curled up body to try and figure out the cause. There was a dark swirl of energy shifting around Severus as though trying to find a way out of him to depart for parts unknown while at the same time he felt a tangible anger from Severus himself. At the same time there was a myriad of small faint sparkles all around the dark energy which seemed to be trying to contain it.  
  
Indignant for Severus' benefit, Harry cautiously reached out towards the fighting energies as though to test it for heat. His instincts kicked in however, and his fingers brushed only the layer of faint sparkles. He felt a connection- a presence that felt warm and familiar to him.  
  
Dumbledore.  
  
It wasn't actually Dumbledore himself, but with that contact Harry knew that Dumbledore was the source of the faint sparkles surrounding Severus and containing the other energy. No- actually he wasn't the source of it.... he was the cause of them. Severus was the source. It was Severus' energy that created the sparkles... due to something Dumbledore shaped in him. Dumbledore-shaped Severus energy which was containing the darker swirl, keeping it from escaping.  
  
This puzzled Harry somewhat, so additionally encouraged by Severus' pain and his own need to stop it, Harry slowly dipped his hand further into the energy surrounding Severus and into the dark mass...  
  
Voldemort.  
  
Harry quickly withdrew in alarm, then frowned as he watched Severus struggle for a moment to control his body's trembling. He was gasping for breath with difficulty and stared into the distance as though his awareness was elsewhere. Why would the Dumbledore-shaped energy try to keep Voldemort-shaped energy from leaving Severus? Wouldn't Severus be better off without that energy? But wait- the energy was shaped by the two wizards... but it is Severus' own energy. In effect, the two wizards had him fighting himself.  
  
Harry couldn't let too much of that energy escape nor could he try to destroy it; that could drain Severus and possibly hurt him worse. But it was tainted energy... what to do?  
  
Taint it back? Subvert it? But then wouldn't he be guilty of the same thing that the other two wizards seemed to have done to Severus? Harry searched his thoughts and feelings for any ideas of what he could that wouldn't be of harm. Both of the energies surrounding Severus seemed to be growing stronger, the darker seeming to feed off of him whilst the sparkles bolstered themselves.  
  
Harry's thoughtful gaze fell upon a nearby bush where the evening's sunlight managed to reach parts of it. A plant converts sunlight and minerals and all that and gives off oxygen. Processing materials, Harry thought as he let his hand drift slowly back towards the struggling energies.  
* * * * *  
He was swimming in the darkness that enveloped him as he grew progressively weaker, as though he was being drained. But the darkness wasn't without motion; it was like a stormy sea at night that tossed him about within it while he struggled to remain afloat.   
  
In the distance there was a rumble and a play of lightening high in the sky- so high that it barely showed through the heavy cloud cover. It was continuously present, however, rather than flickering with pauses of darkness between. The lightening also seemed somehow to shift in location and density with the clouds above as they battled for dominance... but he was growing weary and keeping above the waves was becoming difficult. He looked around him again for a sign of land or something floating to grab a hold of.  
  
Suddenly it seemed as though a spotlight broke through the clouds from above, distant and wandering as though in search of something in the ocean. He was about to call out when a wash of dark force fell over him, filling his mouth and making him choke as he struggled towards the surface again. With such complete darkness he became disoriented and couldn't tell which way was up.  
  
He saw the spotlight pass over him atop the dark waters above him, and for a moment the dark water grew more clear... the light felt rejuvenating, lifting him towards the surface again until it passed from view. He reached up towards the direction the light had come from and worked anew to reach the surface of the darkness... and broke it with a gasp.  
  
Shaking his head to clear his vision, he searched for the presence of that light again which had briefly faded but appeared anew in another location, still searching. "Here," he panted with what strength he could muster although he held little hope that he would be heard.  
  
With a startling swiftness, the light suddenly centered itself upon him, enfolding him in warmth and lifting him, steadying him against the tossing darkness... making that darkness lighter. He heard a far away voice but couldn't understand the words.  
  
Slowly the spotlight widened in area, spreading out from him with effort. For a time the light paused, then reversed direction back towards him as it grew smaller... but as it did so he felt stronger. And so it went, a continuous process as the lightening continued its flickering battle with the rest of the darkness above him and outside the spotlight. First the light grew in area while never moving him from its center, and then it grew smaller as though infusing him with its strength. Slowly, the torrential darkness grew calmer as though there was less force to it... and as a timeless period passed that darkness became akin to twilight.  
  
Even the lightening grew dimmer, still flickering constantly but not as strongly as though in proportion to the weakening darkness. Twilight became tinged with green which slowly grew lighter until with a sudden shock, he gasped and flew upwards towards the voice he now recognized.  
* * * * *  
When Harry first touched Severus' right arm, Severus opened his mouth as though to speak, but then choked and seemed almost about to lose consciousness as the energies intensified further. With a desperate effort, Harry removed his hand from Severus' arm and tried touching his forehead instead. Harry felt perhaps a trace of a presence there but with unconsciousness encroaching upon Severus, Harry couldn't quite latch on to it, so he tried reaching back to cradle the back of Severus' head.  
  
A moment passed, however, and Severus gasped, then croaked, "Here." With that word it became suddenly obvious to Harry what to do. He rested his hand upon Severus' chest, over his heart. There he was! Speaking soothing words that Harry paid no mind to, he concentrated upon the man before him and met the gaze that still seemed to look through him.  
  
Harry wasn't aware of time passing, just his concentration and the task before him. The first time he... tasted the dark it gave Harry nightmarish flickers of rememberance of recent trauma. The graveyard. Cedrick. Wormtail. Voldemort's red eyes and high-pitched laughter... but it was then that Harry felt Severus' presence centered before him again and he threw off the visions. The energy he felt was no longer dark and he flexed a muscle he couldn't describe, pushing the filtered energy back into Severus and pausing in preparation to draw another quantity of it into him.  
  
The next time Harry opened his eyes he noticed that the dark energy around Severus was much less active and there was less of it. The light sparkles were weakened as well, although Harry hadn't drawn off any of that Dumbledore-shaped energy during his efforts. Encouraged by the sign, Harry was truly startled when Severus gasped and sat up as though waking from a nightmare, hands reaching for and catching at his arms.  
  
"Harry!" 


	16. Fireside Theorems

A/N: Yet again I'm publishing this fresh out of my brain and onto your computer screens. I hope you enjoy it as I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. Especially towards the end. *gleeful cackle*. This chapter is slightly different in that it's all from one perspective with small changes in it at a certain *snicker* point.  
  
An additional note about my change in customary title format: I couldn't resist with this one as a punned nod to a radio 'series' I never had frequent opportunity to listen to but which I enjoyed many years ago: Firesign Theatre. If Monty Python is your cup of tea then you'll quite likely find it amusing. I figure I'll allow myself the change as I'm getting close to a large shifting in plot soon. I'm debating as to whether it means I'm halfway through the story or a quarter of the way. Depends upon my muses.  
  
My everlasting thanks to my readers and reviewers. Disclaimers apply. I can't wait for Book five when we will see just how far AU we've all gone in our Fanfiction...  
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Chapter 16  
Harry let Snape maintain his grasp on his arms, giving Snape support and time enough to recover himself. "What... what was that?" Snape eventually managed to get out as he grew steadier. He had a not-quite overwhelming sense of the boy sitting next to him; his nerves crackles with energy tinged with Harry's guilt, concern, anger and amazement.  
  
As though to confirm the latter, Harry simply shook his head, wide eyed as though trying to sort out recent events as well. Eventually Harry sat back, leaning against the nearby rock. "I'm exhausted," he murmured as his eyes drift closed.  
  
With a sudden wash of concern, Snape moved forward to inspect the boy. Seeing that Harry wasn't in immediate danger of unconsciousness, Snape slowly sat back as well. As he tried to be honest with himself at the very least, he pitched his voice to a tone less sharp than he customarily took. "What happened, then? This seems a question that comes up far too often of late for my taste."  
  
Harry's voice sounded as though it was coming from far away in his weariness. "The pain was affecting you again... but this time it was different. It wasn't caused by the Dark Mark." Harry hesitates then, opening one eye and then the other to meet Snape's intent gaze.   
  
A few moments passed as the younger wizard studied the older one. "What?" Snape eventually snapped, unable to completely keep his sudden irritation from showing.  
  
"I'm worried that if I say the wrong thing it'll set you off again," Harry reluctantly clarified.  
  
Snape pressed his lips together in thought. "Well now, we can either sort this all out through actual speech- or we can just wait here to get picked up by Voldemort." Pausing for a beat, Snape relented enough to qualify his words with, "We'll have to deal with this sometime. I'd prefer it be without distractions. However, as it is morning, let's remove ourselves from this location and speak further afterwards." With this, Snape got up to pack, frowning at the cold pan of stew, solidified over the magical fire which had long gone out.  
  
Bone weary, Harry tried to get up and help, but Snape snarled, "Sit. Down." When Harry looked about to protest, Snape tossed the blanket on top of him and ordered, "Fold this." With Harry kept temporarily busy extricating himself from the light covering, Snape set about cleaning the abandoned attempt at dinner with a few muttered words and a gesture with his wand.  
  
When he noted Harry was setting the folded blanket at his side, Snape promptly used his wand to levitate the other one and the sleeping bag over to be folded as well. The silence was almost peaceful as distant birds called to each other and a light breeze made the leaves above them rustle softly. When the camp was packed up and traces removed from the area, Snape shrunk down the equipment and pocketed it before eyeing Harry and taking up his broomstick. "Are you well enough to ride?" Snape asked brusquely. "The last thing we need is to have you falling off in mid flight. Let me know if you're that tired, and I'll charm you to the broom."  
  
Harry opened his mouth as though to automatically reassure that he'd be able to hold on, that he shouldn't be worried over... but pausing for thought and studying Snape rather intently, Harry nodded once instead.  
  
Murmuring the charm over Harry, Snape mounted his broom and gestured Harry behind him. As the charm activated Snape felt Harry's fingers fasten themselves carefully into his tattered cloak, but not with the clutching tightness of fear. Expecting- no- knowing that Harry would speak up if he was not ready or if something truly concerned him, Snape kicked off from the ground and expertly maneuvered them just above and amidst the thick covering of the forest.  
  
A few hours passed with several changes in direction on Snape's part in order to prevent the chances of their trail being followed. Spotting another defensive spot ideal for their next camp, Snape brought the broom down for a landing, again finding that he didn't have to concern himself for Harry's landing as the boy's Quiddich skills came to the fore once again. Snape dismissed the charm and let Harry stretch his muscles by assisting with the unpacking.  
  
With the layout of their last camp to use as a template, setting up their second camp was easier and took less time. Soon enough they were seated on the blankets with tins of fruit for lunch. "Now," Snape stated. "Explain."  
  
Harry sighed and began, telling Snape of his reaction to Harry's description of how the Glamour spell had worked differently with him, pausing soon afterwards and eyeing Snape as though expecting the same reaction. When none was in evidence, Harry warily continued with his perception of the two kinds of 'Severus-shaped energy', attributing the sparkled energy that kept the rest in as Dumbledore's doing while the darker energy trying to escape was Voldemort's.  
  
"Trying to escape?" Snape questioned. He vaguely remembered something of a pressure building in him as though something within was about to explode but was then restrained... Reaching out to something- someone, but being held back. He recalled the pained confusion as he felt himself both try to call out and to restrain himself from doing so, both without his own initiative. He remembered it as being somewhat akin to being under the Imperius and said as much to Harry.  
  
"I can see where that would be true; it was your own energy being used to do that," Harry fretted. "That's why you were being drained. The black energy was feeding off of you in its efforts to escape."  
  
"So was the brighter energy, from your description." With a dark frown, Snape attempted to bore a hole through the nearest innocent tree with his gimlet stare. "Dumbledore's efforts were feeding off of me as well."  
  
"But only as much as it had to in order to contain the black energy." Harry's protested defense of Dumbledore made Snape sigh as the boy continued. "The black energy feed off of you on its own initiative and Dumbledore's reacted."  
  
"Yes, of course," Snape drawled, idly plucking a maple leaf from the ground next to the blankets and systematically stripping it bare to leave only the skeleton. "And if you hadn't been on hand to get the black energy under control - however you did that - then both of them would have escalated until I was nothing more than an empty husk," he finished bitterly.  
  
"I don't think it would have happened if I wasn't there," Harry countered. "There wouldn't have been someone who could set off whatever that reaction was because they wouldn't have been able to describe what I saw." Harry paused before forging on, "Your 'normal' appearance is actually a Glamour disguise. What you look like now is more like your real appearance."  
  
Somewhat uncomfortable, Snape tossed away the skeleton of the leaf and reached for another victim to strip away. "What appearance is that?" he questioned, not really wanting to know, yet knowing that Harry would tell him anyway.  
  
As Harry outlined the subtle differences in his features Snape brooded upon what memories he had assembled... and found Harry's words contained truth to them. He was abruptly brought out of his reverie as Harry added, "I think you should wash your hair."  
  
Snape's instinctive reaction was to gut Potter where he sat, but ingrained behavior was weaker in the face of current circumstances. Rather than granting the boy the messy death he so seemed to crave, Snape stopped himself from doing more than standing and growled out, "What are you implying, Potter?"  
  
The unfortunate soul before him raised his hands as though in an attempt to ward off an evil spirit he had roused, blurting out, "I didn't mean it like that, Severus. I'm sorry- it's a part of your changed appearance," he desperately continued, gazing up wide eyed at Snape's suddenly looming figure.  
  
Snape stared down at the boy without expression and folded his arms, waiting...  
  
"When we were in the shed- there was a moment when I had touched... erm..." Potter stuttered, hearing suddenly how awkward his statement was going to potentially sound. Like a true bull-headed Gryffindor however, Potter continued. "... I had touched your hair. And, well..." As Snape growled softly at the renewed implication it prompted the fool to hurry with his explanation. "There was... uhm... asubstanceonitwhichwasclearbutchangeditscolor," Potter hastily concluded, tensed for flight.  
  
Snape slowly brought his quietly simmering rage under control again as he considered Potters words. 


	17. Visitations and Vignettes

A/N: Again this chapter sticks with one perspective, and again was written mostly just before posting. Work is being mean and interfering with my fun. ;) I get lots of kicks hearing back from you all, however. Thank you for the R/R!  
  
I've heard they're starting to make the third Harry Potter movie, TPoA. *Sounds of celebration follow* - This chapter's a little shorter, but I didn't want to delay it any longer. I'm enjoying my once-a-week publishing rate, and even though it means shortish chapters it also means I've less chance to fall into the deadly Procrastination Trap.  
  
Disclaimers apply as always.   
  
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Chapter 17  
Once Severus had paused to decipher Harry's desperately rapid explanation, Harry was rather relieved to watch the fury that had been roiling through Severus' aura slowly show signs of beginning to dissipate- or to at least avoid a messy (and perhaps for Harry, final) explosion. Wariness was the overriding emotion around Severus now, as though Harry's unplanned words had hurt Severus and he was reluctant to lower his guard again. Harry felt a moment's deep regret that Severus didn't seem able to view Harry's aura in return and distantly wondered why this was so.  
  
"A substance that changed its colour, you say?" Severus's voice was very quiet and controlled, the effort he took in doing so only apparent in the flickering colours around him. Harry promptly nodded vigourously, injecting just a little of his desperation into the gesture in the hopes it would further diffuse the Severus bomb before him. Harry knew that when he acted in such a manner in past, it had made him seem younger and that at times even Uncle Vernon had hesitated or even stopped his prospective violence or anger towards Harry, at least for enough time to get out of range.  
  
It seemed to work when Severus coldly spoke again, "Explain." The wariness was a solid wall behind which the rest of Severus' emotions hid, but it seemed no longer a large effort for Severus to control his anger.  
  
Not daring to approach Severus yet, Harry hesitantly gestured towards him. "I really don't mean anything bad by this ... Severus ..." The man standing before him tensed at the use of his first name, the wariness still an opaque wall hiding everything else from Harry's sight. Bravely, he continued at a more rapid pace again, "I'm just trying to explain another part of whatever this is that we've ... discovered. Part of it looks to be physical change along with the rest. The glamour didn't change your hair color ... but when I had touched your hair, there had been a substance there that when it was on my fingers was clear ... but when I wiped it off onto the cloth, it turned black. I think it is changing your hair color, and that if you washed it off we might see what color your hair really is." Finishing, Harry allowed himself to take a deep breath.  
  
Frowning, Severus kept his arms folded. The breeze stirring through the forest again had little effect on the heavy locks of black hair even as it ruffled Harry's. "My hair has been this color for ... quite some time," Severus stated, his frown growing at his unintended pause for puzzled realisation. Harry remained silent and motionless, not wanting to distract Severus from his thoughts or to interrupt the possible flow of further information.  
  
Eventually Harry's patience was rewarded as Severus continued to speak, almost as though to himself. "When I was younger ... a schoolboy in Hogwarts ... my hair was lighter. As I aged and spent less time outside, it darkened." Explanation given Severus focused upon Harry again, frown renewed upon noting that Harry was still seated while he loomed over him. Not seeming inclined to make any change to the arrangement himself, Severus remained as he was. Instinctively, Harry knew that if he wanted to continue the conversation with any chance of learning more, he should remain as he was as well and let Severus keep the advantage of the dominant position.  
  
Moments passed while Harry left Severus alone with his thoughts, and Severus finally turned to settle himself down at the campsite, several steps more distant from Harry. "We'll look into that further later on," Severus growled. Before he could speak further, he was dive-bombed by a tired looking Phoenix who carried a small package. "Fawkes," Severus irritably exclaimed, tension suddenly seeping through the walls of wariness that surrounded him.  
  
Having landed next to the older wizard, Fawkes studied him for a moment before trilling and depositing the small package at his side, nudging it insistently towards him afterwards. "I see it," Severus growled at Dumbledore's familiar. "Go back already."  
  
"Aw, come on," Harry couldn't help but protest. "Fawkes flew across the ocean to get here, didn't you?" Fawkes trilled once more, but the notes sounded troubled to Harry's ears and the eyes of the Phoenix seemed a match for the sentiment. Harry rummaged for something edible amidst their supplies, found some bread and sheepishly offered it to Fawkes. "Got some water in here, too," Harry murmured as Fawkes accepted the bread delicately from Harry's fingers. Severus watched in silence as Fawkes was cared for, eyeing the familiar without expression.  
  
When Fawkes didn't show any sign of departing and trilled again at Severus, Severus sighed and finally reached for the package with a bit of reluctance which worried Harry. Removing the note attached to the box, Severus slowly opened the scroll and read it silently, his lips pressing themselves together. "Fine," he ground out at the bird. "I've received it." When Fawkes didn't seem to be satisfied with the answer, Severus muttered, "If it'll make you leave, tell him I'll use it when I'm damned ready to." With that Fawkes ruffled his feathers, chirped once and flew to Severus' shoulder. Tensing again at the contact, Severus nevertheless allowed Fawkes to nip lightly at his hair before taking off and swiftly disappearing from view.  
  
Carefully, Harry asked, "What did Professor Dumbledore say?"  
  
Still showing signs of irritation, Severus gestured at the box he had yet to touch. "He sent a portkey. I'd advise not touching it until we reach the coast; it has an ocean that it needs to get you across."  
  
With a sense of panic that Harry felt but tried not to show, he asked, "Aren't you coming?"  
  
Lips pressed again into an unforgiving line before Severus muttered, "I'll think about it."  
  
"You'll think about it?" The panic Harry was trying not to show somehow found its way into his voice. "You've got to come back!"  
  
"And why is that?" Severus' voice was silky and full of quiet menace.  
  
Hesitating, Harry shifted where he had resettled himself. "We've still got Death Eaters on our trail. I don't think they'll be nice about it if they found us, and Voldemort didn't sound pleased with you either. You'd be better off at Hogwarts."  
  
Severus seemed about to further bestow his ire upon Harry, but he fell silent with a dark glare that promised unpleasantness if Harry continued on that bent.  
  
Curling up where he sat and resting his chin upon his updrawn knees, Harry quietly murmured, "Something happened, Severus. Something's affecting us both, and I think it started when you were still a student." When Severus merely looked at him without expression, Harry took that as permission to continue.  
  
"Back after I first found you and brought you to the shack, you were being summoned. When I touched ... your Dark Mark, something reacted between it and my scar." Raising a hand subconsciously to touch his forehead, Harry lowered his gaze to stare at his toes. "You were experiencing a vision or a memory of some sort, and because of my scar, I heard some of it. They were talking about you and a Prophecy; that you were either a key to power, or the power itself."  
  
"Yes," Severus slowly hissed out the word. "I ... recall the experience somewhat."  
  
"Then you remember what they said. You were being conditioned, Severus. Against your will," Harry added with emphasis.  
  
For a moment, there was peace at their campsite, the rustle of the leaves overhead as they moved in the gentle breeze and the call of distant birds being all that was heard. Impassively, Severus responded without looking at Harry, "They weren't the only ones conditioning me. So was Dumbledore." 


	18. Parley and Portkeys

A/N: Whew! Another Saturday posting, but this one is rather longer than my others   
so far. Readers and reviewers are placed upon a gleaming pedestal. Disclaimers   
apply as always.  
  
------------------------------  
  
Chapter 18  
As Snape listened to his bitter words fade from the campsite, he watched the   
Potter boy shift uneasily where he sat, wanting to protest Snape's statement but   
unable to do so. Either something else was holding his tongue or the boy was   
starting to use his brain for once.  
  
After a moderately appropriate interval for thought, the boy spoke his protest   
albeit weakly. "Surely it wasn't actual conditioning. Maybe he just put a charm on   
you? A defense?"  
  
A good argument, however misguided. "I've most of my memory back, Potter."   
Cursing himself at the unintended slip and the show of vulnerability, Snape   
plunged on quickly in the hopes the boy hadn't caught it, "I was able to compare   
some of what Voldemort did with what Dumbledore did- it was very similar."  
  
"But Severus-"  
  
"Do you imagine it was my choice to set my own energy against myself?" Snape   
snapped. "A charm is cast upon a person or a thing and uses the caster's power-   
not the power of the person it is cast upon. I was conditioned by Voldemort, and I   
was conditioned by Dumbledore on how to respond to it." The anger that surged   
through Snape lent him energy and he felt his spine straighten further where he   
sat, biting off his words as he spoke. "Remove your blinders and admit to the truth   
of it."  
  
After a few moments of silence, the green-eyed gaze lowered with a flicker of   
internal pain. "I ... understand," he whispered sadly, and the silence grew further   
as the boy struggled with his emotions. It seemed as though he was hurt by the   
idea... another sign of his innocence being stripped away from him by others.   
  
Snape sighed internally and let the boy think in peace while he considered his own   
options.  
  
Remaining on his own, with or without the boy. Well, certainly being on his own   
would make it a lot easier on him to travel- but he couldn't remain on the run   
forever. One side or the other would catch up with him eventually, and he disliked   
being forced to go one way or the other. He would make his own decision.  
  
Going back to Voldemort and trying to make his way there. Blatantly foolish.  
  
Going to Dumbledore. He wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea, but he knew enough   
to realize that the sense of betrayal was fed by emotions and that there was likely   
a very good reason for Dumbledore's actions. At least one that Dumbledore had   
perceived to be good. It didn't mean he was about to give up his newfound anger   
and mistrust of the old fool.  
  
As though his thoughts had been following similar pathways, the boy spoke up   
again- quietly as though to not startle a snake into striking. "Don't you think he   
deserves a chance to explain?"  
  
Snape was about to snarl his reply in the negative, but again his brutal honesty   
made him refrain from doing so- instead, he got up and paced. Among the   
memories he'd recovered were the ones of Dumbledore's foolish trust in him,   
taking him in when his trust in himself had shattered- when he made his first   
break with the Death Eaters and Voldemort.  
  
//Severus... Merlin- sit down boy. Here, let me help you; you'll be all right. ...   
You'll be just fine.//  
  
Shaking his head to dislodge the recollection, he reluctantly growled, "Perhaps."  
  
The boy again showed some wisdom in keeping his trap shut. Then again, when   
faced with a prowling ex-Death Eater on the edge of his temper it might be   
self-preservation instead.  
  
Eventually he spun to a stop and faced the boy. "We'll need to get to the coast   
without any more dilly-dallying through the trees for secrecy. That means a direct   
line of flight which will take us over towns. And that means I'm going to have to   
cast an area invisibility spell to cover us both as well as the broom." Pausing for   
breath, Snape continued, feeling almost as though he were trying to convince   
himself of the necessity rather than informing the boy. "If you've paid attention to   
your lessons, you'll know that a spell grows increasingly difficult to cast when it is   
made into a range or area effect, and that the difficulty increases exponentially   
with each increase in size or distance. Once I cast the spell, I expect for you to   
remain silent and not distract me with your babbling or whining." Unfair, Snape   
thought to himself, but he ignored it as usual. "We'll pack up the campsite once   
we've eaten, and fly to the coastline. It should take approximately five hours.   
We-" he emphasized with a dark stare, "-will use the portkey at that time and   
return to Hogwarts. Once we are there, you will go to the hospital wing and Poppy   
will check you over while I have a discussion with the Headmaster."  
  
With that he turned away from the boy, ignoring him in favor of preparing a quick   
meal from their purchased supplies. His movements were efficient as customary,   
and he put effort into ensuring they remained that way in front of the boy. He was   
all in favor of intimidating him into silence, especially as it ensured he wouldn't   
have to answer any questions at that moment. Behind him, Potter set about   
packing up the blankets, rolling them into a tight bundle with the ease of someone   
used to doing chores.  
  
Stirring the stew over his magical fire, Snape wrinkled his nose at the smell of the   
chemical preservatives that Muggles customarily put into their manufactured foods.   
Yet another reason to not remain on his own in the Muggle world. Food heated, he   
served out portions and set one down for Potter to claim. Snape found that these   
Muggle foods were best tolerated when they were heated, so he consumed his as   
quickly as he could manage.  
  
While the boy at his portion, Snape set about to packing away the rest of the   
supplies and removing traces of their presence in the area. When Potter finished,   
Snape cleaned the dishes and banished them to join the rest of their supplies to   
be shrunken and pocketed. The portkey was wrapped in cloth and pocketed; Snape   
didn't trust shrinking and enlarging a magical item that was going to have to work   
over an extra long distance. With a last study of the area for anything missed,   
Snape waved the boy over. "Stand close and remain within five feet of me; I'm   
making the spell only as big as the broom is long; it will fit us both sitting on the   
broom as well. Once I've cast the spell, get on the broom behind me and keep   
quiet."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Feeling pale but curious, Harry nodded, waiting to see what shape this new spell   
would take and how it was cast.  
  
With Severus' spoken commands, Harry watched as though in slow motion as   
power flared from Severus' wand, glowing softly as it was filtered from Severus'   
body. With the wand gestures that Severus made an outline took shape, forming   
itself into a circle around him, slowly rippling like black velvet billowing in the wind   
before taking flight to hover and surround him- surrounding them both.  
  
Harry let his eyes fall to slits as though to savor the wind, however it wasn't wind   
he felt; rather he was able to sense the power flowing and encircling the two of   
them. For a moment it grew dark, and all he could hear was Severus' voice   
muttering the final words of his spell before the cloak-like outline shimmered to   
Harry's sight and turned clear. Harry couldn't help but breathe, "Beautiful..."  
  
Severus scowled at him and gestured brusquely towards the broom, his brow   
furrowed as he continued to concentrate upon the spell. Sheepish and repentant,   
Harry quickly followed Severus' previous orders and clamped his jaw shut before   
getting onto the floating broom behind Severus.  
  
Pushing them off from the ground, the flight path that Severus took this time kept   
true to his word; they traveled in a straight line, heading east towards the coast   
with small turns to avoid hills and the last of the mountains. It got easier and   
more interesting as they reached the towns that sprawled along below them. Small   
roads became larger ones which met with other ones bustling with the traffic of   
tiny cars, dotted increasingly with houses and then shops. Large roads met with   
more large roads and directed cars on and off of highways which lead to a very   
distant city.  
  
Harry kept his balance mostly through his natural reflexes, but he found that he   
was never surprised by a change in direction and was able to lean into the turns   
without overbalancing or causing Severus trouble which he was thankful for. Not   
wanting to rub Severus the wrong way, Harry relied mostly upon this balance and   
avoided touching Severus whenever he was able; his Professor was still feeling   
shock and betrayal from his perception of the Headmaster's past actions and   
wasn't likely to appreciate Harry gripping his shoulders or waist.  
  
Finally sighting the coast, Severus directed the broom along the beaches in search   
of an area they wouldn't be spotted; predictably the beachfront property was   
populated by some housing areas as well as a boardwalk and public beaches that   
were being enjoyed for the summertime weather. Looking down at people   
sunbathing reminded Harry that he wasn't wearing the most comfortable of outfits   
for the heat. Surprisingly however, he didn't feel that bad off; what he wanted over   
everything else was a bath and a comfortable bed.  
  
As they found a place that wasn't as well developed as the others, Severus   
brought them in for a landing with his customary smoothness although Severus'   
aura was wavering with his exhaustion. Checking that there were no witnesses,   
both Harry and Severus were thankful as Severus cast a Finite Incantum on the   
invisibility charm and they came into view.  
  
As Harry expected, Severus' mind used the five hours and multitasked enough to   
further consider his position during the trip. Now his aura showed that he was   
quite tired, and Harry didn't feel the freshest either. However, it was Harry's turn   
for his thoughts to turn down an uncustomary avenue. He could agree to find   
someplace here to rest before taking the portkey back, presumably to Hogwarts ...   
or he could urge Severus that they should return to Hogwarts now. It would mean   
more comfort sooner, but it would also mean that Severus would be worn down   
and perhaps slightly less guarded when he spoke to Professor Dumbledore than he   
would be when he was rested.  
  
Did Harry dare trust Dumbledore fully to do what's best for Severus when Harry   
didn't know exactly what Dumbledore had done to him or why? The instinct to   
protect Severus remained, and Harry found that he didn't want to be sent to the   
hospital wing- especially if it meant Severus facing Dumbledore alone.  
  
Decision made, Harry spoke firmly before Severus could. "Sev- sir," he rethought   
quickly, deciding that a little respectful formality would help his case. "You'll be   
coming back with me, won't you?" When Severus nodded distractedly, Harry   
continued with relief. "I think that we should either rest before using the portkey   
and returning, or that I should come with you when you speak to Professor   
Dumbledore."  
  
Brow furrowed again, Severus growled, "Do you think that I require a chaperone? A   
guard, perhaps?" His tone of voice was a promise of dark things to the person who   
gave him an answer he didn't like.  
  
"I think that you should have ... a witness with you." Harry stubbornly frowned   
back at Severus, "And this isn't only about you. This is affecting us both now, and   
I want answers, too."  
  
"You'll get your answers in your own time. You are a student who has been hurt,   
and it is my responsibility to have you checked over by Madame Pomphrey upon   
our return." Severus' tone was factual, and if there was a show of concern it was   
well hidden from Harry's eyes, even in his aura.  
  
"You were hurt too," Harry argued, "Even worse than I was. Much worse."  
  
"I am an adult and as such am responsible for myself. I will visit the hospital wing   
once I've ... discussed things with the Headmaster." Although there was no trace   
of emotion in Severus' voice or features, his aura roiled with his suppressed anger   
and hurt.  
  
"I'll agree to go to the hospital wing if we rest here first before taking the   
Portkey," Harry returned, going for the brave and straightforward 'Gryffindor way'   
and hoping it would work. "You're too tired now to deal with the Headmaster about   
this serious a subject. Not alone."  
  
Severus' anger grew as he paced despite his weariness. "My healing potions are   
effective, but nothing replaces treatment by a trained mediwitch. You're going to   
the hospital wing- tonight."  
  
"I'll go to the hospital wing when you do, after your- after *our* meeting with   
Dumbledore." Mulishly, Harry added, "The sooner the meeting is done, the sooner   
I'll be in the hospital wing."  
  
Severus was plainly at the end of his patience, but between the practicality of   
there being a witness to monitor Dumbledore's actions and the logic of getting it   
all over with the soonest, Severus finally snarled, "Fine. We're using the Portkey   
now," and reached into his pocket for the item; a carefully shaped clear crystal.   
Socks and trash were for shorter distances.  
  
Harry reached out to touch it as Snape firmly grasped the broom, and the two of   
them were suddenly linked as they were lifted and pulled by the navel. Seconds   
passed during which everything but Severus was a blur, and finally they were   
lightly dropped to the ground in a landing smoother than Harry had yet experienced   
with portkey travel.  
  
With grass under their feet and trees just behind, they turned as one to behold   
the structure standing across the field from them.  
  
Hogwarts. 


	19. Runes and Reunions

A/N: Although I've gotten a couple of reviewers asking me to pick up the pace, I'm  
trying to write out all of the details and as much interaction and thought behind  
the story as I can. It's my intention that this story is not going to be a short one,  
weighing in at a respectable length. I've got some more details in mind that I'm   
going to be writing out; I'm just hoping that there are more people enjoying what   
I'm doing than there are who are getting bored. Believe me there is going to be   
action; I just don't want to put massive action and angst (love that angst) in every   
chapter or it could get tiring very quickly. Variety is the spice of life! Together with   
the occasional flashback to detail background on what had happened, there will be   
more information on the Prophecy and the powers that are developing.  
  
Sorry for the rambling; I wrote the above at 2:30am.  
  
All homage to JKR, and disclaimers apply as always. Thank you for reading and   
reviewing!  
  
------------------------  
  
Ch 19  
Snape felt himself falling back into his old habits at the first sight of the castle   
that had been his home on and off for most of his life. Striding purposefully, he let   
his robes billow around him to conceal his frame, aided by the light wind that blew   
across the field. Although he would never actually hunch, Snape's posture changed   
enough to make his pace into a prowl and made it easier for his hair to fall into his   
face, covering it from easy view.  
  
Potter lengthened his strides to match Snape's, but wasn't able to quite enough to   
keep him from having to jog occasionally to keep up. The boy had grown, but he'd   
have to sprout further over the next few years to reach Snape's height; something   
that Snape wasn't eager to wait around and witness.  
  
They reached the doors to the castle without incident; unsurprising due to the   
customary sparseness of summertime residents. Most of the teachers took the   
time to visit with family or to concentrate on projects of their own; only those   
whose duty was to Dumbledore and the fight against Voldemort remained on watch   
at the castle during the majority of the Summer months. This included the Heads   
of House and the other members of the Order of the Phoenix.  
  
Snape paused just inside the castle, shooting a glance in the direction of the   
Headmaster's office before turning in the opposite direction with Potter trailing   
after him like a confused puppy. He waited for the questions and wasn't   
disappointed.  
  
"Sir?" the boy started hesitantly. "I thought we were going to see Dumbledore."  
  
Magnanimously, Snape decided to explain. "Before we go to see him, I want to   
get some information on what has been done- before he has a chance to change   
it." Stalking down the corridor towards the dungeons, he added, "It won't take long   
as the information will be processing on its own for some time once we are ...   
scanned."  
  
"Scanned?" the boy asked as he jogged at Snape's side, the corridors quietly   
echoing their footfalls back at them in a way they aren't able to do when full of   
student bodies.  
  
Sighing, Snape continued, expecting the boy would be easier to manage in this   
case with the increased knowledge. "Do you imagine we would not have been   
conquered finally by the Dark Lord if I didn't take steps to ensure that certain   
magics were not secreted about my person upon returning to Hogwarts? Paranoia   
is a good thing in moderate and realistic quantities. It prevents unexpected ...   
accidents and protects against unintentional opportunities for invasion of the   
castle." Thankfully the boy decided to save his breath for keeping up with him; the   
main reason he set the nearly blistering pace that he did.  
  
Not wanting to show Harry the shortcuts to be had in the dungeons, it took Snape   
an extra couple of minutes to get them to his rooms. Murmuring his password   
quietly enough that Potter wouldn't hear, Snape produced his wand and touched   
the section of wall that hid his door, disarming the wards enough to allow a guest   
to enter and opening the door before leading the boy into his small suite.  
  
Snape didn't have to look behind him to know that Potter was looking around at   
his rooms in curiosity; well that couldn't be helped. At least it would distract him   
from noticing the steps he took along with the spells for the ward disarming. The   
deed done, Snape turned to absorb the sight of Potter peering thoughtfully at one   
of his shelves- the one holding certain small potion bottles and a very light   
scattering of pictures. Not that he expected the boy to be drawn to the shelves of   
books; that would be a behavior more suited to the Granger girl. Potter startled   
satisfactorily and spun when Snape commanded, "Come."  
  
Leading Potter into the room he'd had added to his suite, Snape activated the   
series of runes he'd meticulously carved into the floor with a series of spells he'd   
researched for the purpose just after he'd first turned to Dumbledore for help. With   
a subtle thrum of subliminal power, they indicated their readiness. He beckoned   
the hesitant Potter over with a brusque gesture. "We may as well scan us both;   
perhaps we'll learn just what these changes involve."  
  
* * * * *  
  
When Harry felt the thrum of power from the runes on the floor it nearly took his   
breath away. When Severus gestured him forward to join him in the center of the   
circle he was understandably hesitant to do so... but when he started sensing the   
directing force of the runes he understood that while they were a power of their   
own, they weren't undirected. They were firmly shaped and controlled by Severus.  
  
Moving into the indicated spot, Harry watched Severus curiously as he produced his   
wand and murmured again to the runes. The power surged into something almost   
substantial in its vibrations and a faintly familiar sense he'd felt from the other in   
the circle with him. He began to see shadows of that power, lifting from the runes   
and moving around them both before sweeping over them- through them. It felt   
almost like a refreshing wind and Harry could almost feel his hair ruffling in it,   
however Severus' robes and hair remained unmoving. Soon it passed and Severus   
directed him back out into his rooms, following and closing the door behind and   
reactivating the wards.  
  
When Severus went towards the door back to the corridor, Harry asked, "Why don't   
you get a new set of robes while we're here?"  
  
Abruptly Severus spun on his heel and stared at Harry intently, "Because   
Dumbledore expects that I will be reporting to him as soon as I have arrived in the   
castle," Severus stated with a pointed and somewhat intimidating look, "And it is   
my wish that he believes that we have done so. Now," Severus continued firmly,   
"It's time for us to go to the Headmaster after which you will be delivered into   
Poppy's hands."  
  
Not wanting to press Severus further but not liking the sound of finality in those   
last words, Harry silently followed. Stepping in front of the door to the   
Headmaster's office, Severus muttered a password with distaste (Devil Dogs) and   
walked onto the ascending staircase with Harry promptly on his heels.  
  
The door opened to reveal the grandfatherly features of Albus Dumbledore at his   
desk, his voice warm and gentle with concern at the appearance of them both.   
"Severus," Dumbledore spoke as he stood from his chair to approach, "I'm glad to   
see you both safe, but don't you think you should have brought young Mr. Potter to   
the Hospital Wing on the way over?"  
  
Harry watched as sparks of irritation limned Severus' aura which was otherwise   
deeply colored by his wariness and distrust. "I attempted to, but 'young Mr. Potter'   
was most insistent on accompanying me. I decided that the sooner this meeting   
was finished the sooner he'll be checked over."  
  
Dumbledore actually seemed perplexed for a moment as he turned his attention   
upon Harry who met his inquisitive gaze with an almost defiant one of his own.   
"Harry?" Dumbledore asked, "Was there something important you needed to bring   
to our attention?"  
  
Not quite able to disregard Severus' warning glance, Harry stopped himself from   
saying what he was going to and deferred to Severus' plans. "I think that Severus   
should tell you," Harry muttered, trying to keep Severus' negative reactions from   
appearing in his own behavior when Severus was putting such effort to keep them   
from showing himself.  
  
"Severus," Dumbledore echoed thoughtfully even as Harry realized he should have   
stuck to the more proper way of referring to his professor. Dumbledore looked   
between Harry and Severus thoughtfully, his gaze solemn and without the   
customary twinkle of amusement, and Severus shifted once uncomfortably at the   
study.  
  
As Severus was about to speak again to shift Dumbledore's attention from the   
form of address, Dumbledore's eyes widened in realization and he breathed, "Oh,   
my," as he studied Severus closer- but he wasn't looking at the state of Severus'   
robes or minor injuries. Harry felt his own eyes narrow as Dumbledore continued.   
"Oh, Severus- what happened to cause this?" 


	20. Confrontation and Conspiracy

A/N: I'm so pleased to hear from people who think that my pacing's good the way it is. Hearing from reviewers makes my day every time! I do try to make the characters behave realistically and in keeping with their personality and sometimes that overrides the speed of plot development, I guess. I'm hoping that this part will be the beginning of answering some of your questions.  
  
Disclaimers apply as always.  
  
---------------------------------  
  
Chapter 20  
  
Severus' lip curled faintly at Dumbledore's question, not quite able to restrain the   
entirety of his anger at the older wizard as he muttered, "I should think that you   
would know more about the subject than I. Why don't you tell us?"  
  
Harry felt a shock of pleased surprise at Severus' inclusion of him in the statement,   
seemingly without forethought. When the Headmaster hesitated and then gestured   
towards the small grouping of chairs off to one side of his office, Harry found himself   
obeying half out of habit and half from weariness. Severus delayed a purposeful   
amount of time, starting into the Headmaster's gaze before turning to occupy one of   
the empty chairs as well. The Headmaster took the third, adjusting his robes before   
settling himself and folding his hands before him.  
  
"You have had a harrowing experience, I see," Dumbledore murmured in tone of   
concern and sadness. "I did not expect it to happen this way, Severus."  
  
Next to Harry, Severus stiffened in his seat. It's one thing to suspect, or even to   
know from your own suspicions, Harry thought. It's quite another to have them   
confirmed. Harry felt his own posture stiffening as well, but remained silent. He   
knew Severus wouldn't appreciate a distraction at this point, and Harry didn't want   
to provide one for Dumbledore.  
  
Severus' voice was somewhat roughened when he next spoke, "And what exactly   
were you expecting then? To keep this secret until you decided to use it at your   
convenience?"  
  
"No, Severus." Dumbledore's words were gentle, and his sadness and regret seemed   
sincere to Harry. "It was never my intent to use you," he sighed, the words 'my boy'   
left unspoken while Severus was so mistrustful, showing Harry the depths of   
Dumbledore's own familiarity with Severus' reactions. "Only to keep you unharmed   
until the time came."  
  
"Unharmed?" the painfully dry sarcasm in Severus' question was enough of a   
statement in itself as Dumbledore winced; apparently he had some idea of what   
might have come to pass, Harry noted. So far Dumbledore hadn't made any overt or   
even subtle moves that might be construed as aggressive, and there had been no   
changes to Severus' aura other than his quietly roiling emotions. Rather than   
confronting Dumbledore about recent events, Severus opted to take advantage of   
Dumbledore's apparent willingness to talk in order to get further information.   
Otherwise if the confrontation went poorly there would be less chance of getting the   
information afterwards. "Tell us what your intent was, and what is happening   
between Mr. Potter and myself."  
  
For an unguarded moment, Dumbledore raised a hand to his face, pressing at the   
bridge of his nose before running the hand downwards as though in a wish to wipe   
the subdued pain from his features. "As I said, I was watching over you until the   
time came for fates to be fulfilled. It was my wish to keep you from being troubled   
over this, especially in light of your continuing your duties as my spy, Severus.   
Certainly you can see that it was an act to protect you from Voldemort- at least as   
much as I am able with you being in your position." Severus' features remained hard   
and impassive but he was listening to Dumbledore for the moment, so the   
Headmaster continued, leaning forward in his seat earnestly, but carefully enough to   
not intrude in Severus' personal space. "I trust you to keep our secrets, Severus. But   
I don't trust Voldemort to not try and rip them from you should he sense that   
something was amiss."  
  
"And so you felt that it was your duty to weave such spells within me that show a   
distinct similarity to the ones placed there by Voldemort himself," Severus finished   
bitterly.  
  
"You've seen the effect of one of my spells, Severus; I can see that it was   
activated," Dumbledore solemnly intoned. "It was not my intent that it be activated   
randomly. It was a guard against Voldemort being made aware of your knowledge   
when I made you aware of your nature. The energy shaped by Voldemort sought to   
escape you- it was designed to send him information on your status on the event of   
your discovery of certain things, and to incapacitate you at the same time by   
draining you of much of your energy and make it easier to collect you. Or to make   
you more susceptible of following his mental commands from afar. My spell was   
designed to contain that energy from escaping you and traveling to Voldemort.   
But," Dumbledore's voice grew softer and filled again with remorse, "I did not expect   
for it to be activated anywhere other than in my presence where I could properly see   
to you and terminate Voldemort's sending as well as my own protection after   
explaining things to you."  
  
"Explaining things to me?" Harry winced as he watched Severus' aura flare with   
sudden rage to match the dangerous cold tones of his words. "What exactly gave   
you the right to decide what I do and do not know regarding myself? I may have   
been a student still, but you are not my Father," Severus noted with bared teeth.  
  
"No, I am not," Dumbledore admitted, "Yet you still cried out to me for help. You did   
not realize it, but you did nevertheless."  
  
"And how did I do that, might I ask," was Severus' sarcastic rejoinder.  
  
"By following the instructions given to you by Sirius Black, a boy you hated and did   
not trust, and finding yourself face to face with a young but no less dangerous   
werewolf otherwise known as Remus Lupin," Dumbledore calmly replied. Harry felt   
his back straighten, uncomfortable with the reminder of the conflict between Severus   
and his Godfather. "It was then that it became apparent to me that your inner   
strength was driving you to such lengths ... that something was most definitely   
amiss." More quietly Dumbledore added, "... That you would rather kill yourself than   
to continue in your situation. It was then that I began to look into what would cause   
such a silent outcry ... and discovered what you are."  
  
Harry found that he couldn't remain silent any longer, not with the darkness and   
throbbing hurt that was coming from Severus. "Sirius told me about what happened   
that night. Points and a few detentions," he bit out. "You kept the knowledge from   
Severus back then and let Voldemort get a hold of him- let him be trapped into   
becoming a Death Eater, let him live in misery for all of this time. You manipulated   
him just as much as Voldemort. More even, because you knew what Voldemort was   
doing. And you allowed it." Anger swelled within Harry as he stared at the older   
wizard who showed no signs towards anger of his own; instead he looked older and   
more tired than Harry had ever seen him.  
  
"I have regretted much in my life, Harry," Dumbledore murmurs with a glance at   
Severus as well. "But the things I have done are things that seemed necessary at   
the time. Some of them were mistakes, but most of them were still quite necessary.   
If I hadn't kept my awareness a secret thing, Voldemort would have eventually   
found out. I could not keep Severus here indefinitely; he had a family to return to   
over the summer holidays, and he would have been taken."  
  
"I *was* taken," Severus muttered with a speculative glance towards Harry.   
"Sometimes while I was visiting with the Malfoys..." Here he paused, and Harry saw   
flash of protectiveness and fear before Snape continued, "I was even conditioned to   
meet them occasionally while I was here at the school."  
  
"And that is why I found it necessary to put certain measures of my own into place,   
Severus." Dumbledore shook his head, "I regret the necessity, but only because of   
how it affected you. If it was to happen again, I would have to do the same thing. It   
is the burden of responsibility, and I'm afraid that I cannot ask for forgiveness."  
  
"Cannot, or will not?" Harry asked with a deep frown, offended on Severus' behalf. It   
seemed that it was Severus' turn to listen to Harry speak in silence, his aura   
brooding and thoughtful.  
  
"Cannot," Dumbledore murmured, solemnly studying the other man. "In all of the   
time I have known you, Severus, I have grown to become quite fond of you, and it   
has pained me deeply to watch this happening. But I knew that once the prophecy   
was fulfilled, it would be worth all that has come to pass."  
  
With a quiet sigh Severus asked, "Worth it for whom?"  
  
"For us all, Severus," Dumbledore replied. "For us all."  
  
--------------------------------------  
  
A/N2: For all of my reviewers who hate cliffhangers, I made this chapter end with a little less of one to soothe your nerves. Enjoy. ;) 


	21. Hypothesis and Hindsight

A/N: Sorry this chapter's late, but this weekend in the middle of writing I got a bit of   
experience in head trauma- I slipped and fell. I now have eight staples along a cut   
on the back of my head, but the research I did for this story allowed me to know   
that the injury wasn't serious and that I didn't have a concussion even before my   
husband drove me to the hospital. I'm doing much better now, apart from the metal   
I have to keep in my scalp until next week...  
  
I love hearing from my readers and thank you all for taking the time to review or   
even just to read. I hope you're enjoying things; this chapter has a few chunks of   
goodies, I think. Disclaimers apply as always. I salivate in anticipation of Book 5   
when my story and thousands of others will become definitive A/Us. ;)  
  
--------------------------------------  
  
Chapter 21  
  
Snape had been watching Harry out of the corner of his eye as Potter spoke up for   
him again regarding Dumbledore's actions... despite the boy's anger- or because of   
it- this hadn't been easy for him; he could see Potter's posture slowly worsening as   
exhaustion slowly crept up on him again. He knew the Headmaster wouldn't miss a   
detail like that and so was unsurprised at the next words from the older wizard. "But   
while there is much yet to tell, both of you should visit the hospital wing. You need   
rest and to recover from the hardships of your journey."  
  
"And when will we be continuing this conversation?" Snape found himself growling.   
"I am aware of how much work you have to do in preparation for the next school   
year."  
  
Dumbledore straightened, his gaze one of calm determination in the face of Snape's   
restrained ire. "I give you my Oath that I will not keep the knowledge from you any   
longer. But both of you must regain your strength before we continue, so that we   
might guard against further conditioning that has been set by Voldemort. Wards will   
be placed around the Hospital Wing during this time so that no one can enter or   
leave without my allowance." As Snape bristled, his rational self nevertheless knew   
Dumbledore's reasoning even before it was explained to him, "It must be done so   
that you aren't commanded to leave Hogwarts from afar, Severus." Snape nodded   
once brusquely before getting up to leave without expression.   
  
Potter rushed to follow, his lips pressed together in a frown that looked to be an   
unfamiliar part of his face. With an inner sigh that was the only reflection of his   
weariness that he would allow, Snape took his leave and lead the boy to the   
Hospital Wing.  
  
Snape bore Poppy's fussing as she was wont to do whenever it was necessary for   
him to receive treatment from her. Given a bed towards the rear and the more   
private part of the wing, Snape simply rolled onto his side, facing away from Potter,   
and went to sleep so that the boy wouldn't have the chance to ask him further   
awkward questions- and so that he would sleep as well, having little else to do.  
  
Facing those green eyes and his questions could wait until tomorrow.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Blood tainted breath and a deep-throated growl made Severus wrench open the eyes   
he had squinted closed the moment before, instinctively unable to hide from the   
threat in his self-imposed darkness. He knew that something was fundamentally   
wrong with everything - with himself.   
  
He didn't feel it- he knew himself beyond such emotion most of the time, although   
at the moment he felt the pounding of his heart in adrenalin-fueled fear.   
  
He knew he had to figure it out. He wasn't about to just go where the wind blew   
him- his rational mind demanded that he test out hypothesis after hypothesis; this   
was another one of them albeit a rather drastic one- but logic demanded it.   
  
He had controlled the variables to every extent that he could, but if he were to   
receive true results that would give him the answers he needed to be certain of one   
thing. That he wasn't controlling every variable- that he wasn't dreaming this,   
trapped in his own mind. And that proof faced him now.  
  
He knew that if he so much as moved to raise his wand, he would be killed.  
  
"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!! Get a move on, Snape- that's not going to hold him for   
long!"  
  
And so he heard the words of James Potter. Uncertainty and doubt crashed in once   
more. Did he manufacture the Gryffindor- the most realistic of saviors? Was it   
placed into his thoughts for him?  
  
"Are you daft, man! Come on, run for Merlin's sake!" Severus felt himself tugged,   
turned, pushed into a shambling run towards the other end of the tunnel and the   
night outside. Sounds of an angry werewolf stirring and then running behind them   
before they climbed out of the hole. Were there moments that he remembered   
blacking out? A difference in time between one moment and the next? Did his   
actions make sense to him?  
  
Potter's voice again, "Snape! Snap out of it you git!" More pushing. Walking on   
grass. Hard surface underfoot. Shouted questions- Black. Muttered answers- Potter.   
More pushing and walking. Echoes. Quiet discussion. A sneered comment. Something   
flicked the back of his head. Stopping. Upwards movement. A voice... concerned.   
Questioning...  
  
Dumbledore.  
  
His voice melded... melted slowly into something else more powerful, more   
aggressive in its charisma.  
  
Severus stirred but didn't open his eyes; the curtains of numbness were slowly   
parting and the spoken words began to make sense again.  
  
"Dumbledore is sure to take more of an interest in him now that he's drawn   
attention to himself. I intend to control the damage and to keep him from growing   
closer to most anyone, except for... us."  
  
A painfully familiar voice. "Will you use the Imperius Curse, My Lord?"  
  
"My work will be for the long term, and will require changes over a period of time   
lest they seem overly suspicious. The conditioning will gradually cause him to   
withdraw from others. The potion you created at my request, my dear Parcelsis, will   
take care of the physical changes. I am pleased with your addition of the reasoning   
for the potion's use; Severus himself must also not suspect. We have seen the   
results of conflict within his mind..."  
  
The rest of the words were drowned by his shock, and he felt his throat constrict   
with the pain of his Father's betrayal and the effort it took him to hold in all sound-   
to not whimper, to not move.  
  
Something touched his arm. Shaking him. Calling to him. A youthful voice,   
concerned. He opened his eyes, in need of something to lead him from the void.  
".... Harry."  
  
* * * * *  
  
... agony ... pain, but not physical. Harry stirred and woke himself, dragging himself   
blindly at first towards the source- and found Severus curled into a tight ball, a soft   
whimper barely heard. Harry bit his lip; he couldn't stand seeing the torment in   
Severus' aura, but he wasn't sure what his reception at being awakened in such a   
state would be. It didn't take Harry long to make his decision however. If Severus   
thrust him away, at least he'd be awake and safe from that nightmare. He reached   
for Severus' shoulder, gently moving it and calling, "Severus. Wake up- you're having   
a nightmare. Wake up, Severus. Come on..."  
  
Black eyes opened, gateways to the Abyss as Severus dragged in a breath of air.   
".... Harry."  
  
Harry felt himself beam at Severus. Perhaps they'd get back to being on a first name   
basis again. It depended upon how he handled this now, he knew. A little hopefully   
he fed Severus a straight line that would be easy for him to latch onto. "You're   
awake."  
  
"You're observant." Severus didn't disappoint, even while it looked like he was still   
collecting his soul together from the pit he'd just emerged from. Even better, he   
wasn't scowling at Harry, and the indications in his aura gave Harry the idea he   
might even accept a little carefully offered comfort. He knew he shouldn't   
manipulate Severus like this, using his emotions against him... but he was doing it   
for Severus' benefit. Slowly Harry kept his hand in sight and settled it gently upon   
Severus' still trembling shoulder. It seemed to give Severus something to anchor   
himself to as he gradually stilled and the wild look left his eyes.   
  
Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Severus paused before murmuring,   
"Thank you, Harry."  
  
"You're welcome," Harry responded just as quietly. When Severus moved to sit up,   
Harry reached over to the next bed and grabbed another pillow, handing it to   
Severus to use rather than putting it behind his back for him. A smart move Harry   
knew, since he was fond of keeping his hands intact. "Are you all right now?"  
  
"I imagine that you have a good idea of the answer to that," Severus noted.  
  
"Well then," Harry watched as Severus raked his black, greasy hair out of his face,   
"Is there anything you'd care to talk about while we wait for Dumbledore?" To make   
both of them more comfortable, Harry sat down on the bed next to Severus'.  
  
With a sigh, Severus eventually muttered, "I believe I've remembered a few more   
details that had been kept from me previously."  
  
Harry debated internally between saying what first popped into his head and   
restraining himself. He decided that Severus might get uncomfortable if Harry   
changed *too* much, so he spoke up, "From your reaction they don't seem to be   
good ones."  
  
Nodding in pensive agreement, Severus muttered, "I know now why my hair is the   
way it is. Why my complexion changed when I was younger. Why it was done to   
me."  
  
--------------------------------------  
  
A/N2: I admit to being an evil cliffy woman. Someone's gotta do it. At least I update   
weekly or thereabouts and not monthly. ;) 


	22. Potions and Penitence

A/N: This chapter comes with a concept I've proudly not seen in stories I've read to date.   
My own reason (as you might have guessed from last chapter) as to why Severus Snape's  
hair looks/is greasy.  
  
Disclaimers apply as always. Thank you to everyone who reads and extra to those who   
review. I love hearing feedback! And yes, I know I know. But I don't want to answer all   
questions in one chapter- it'd take too long for me to write! ;)  
  
------------------------------  
  
Chapter 22  
  
Harry was intensely curious, but didn't want to push Severus too much, especially   
considering the fragile possibility of Severus becoming more comfortable around Harry   
again the way he had briefly been when they were stranded together in the woods.   
Thinking about it objectively, Harry briefly wondered why he wanted Severus' friendship   
so much considering their shared past before the summertime could be called   
objectionable at best. But the large amount of insight he had gotten into Severus over   
just the past few days had been enough to pull him a good distance from his desolation   
over Cedric's death and the ending of his fourth school year... the ritual, and Voldemort's   
resurrection. Yes, typical Gryffindor, Harry thought. Forgets his miseries in the face of   
someone else who needs help.  
  
Idly, Harry wondered what part of him was attributed as being Slytherinish- if there was   
such a word- that he was almost Sorted into that house. Then he realized it was likely   
due to his cunning and (occasional) restraint in dealing with the older wizard (not to   
mention others he'd encountered during his time at Hogwarts) as he watched Severus   
sort through his words. Finally Severus began to speak again.  
  
"Part of what Voldemort did was in an effort to prevent my growing close to anyone,   
likely so that I wouldn't have curious friends on my heels when I suddenly and without   
reason took off in secret at Voldemort's summons... or so that someone wouldn't take   
too much interest in me. So that Voldemort would be the one to profit from ... whatever   
it is that we are a part of. Only it seems that both Voldemort and Dumbledore didn't   
think that the other half of this ... prophesy ... might be in the form of yourself. The   
Famous Harry Potter." Severus gave him a look which wasn't so much of a sneer as it was   
a dark smirk, and for once Harry was able to appreciate the offered irony enough to not   
be hurt or offended.  
  
"So then, he altered your physical appearance," Harry hazarded, cautiously adding, "He   
might have even altered your behavior, too."  
  
"Quite possible." The pensive stare across the Hospital Ward and out the opposite   
window lent Severus a slightly younger appearance, aided further from the more neutral   
tones to his voice which lacked its customary bite. "At first, the darkening of my hair   
seemed a natural process- a part of the changes undergone as I went through my   
teenage years. But I believe it all may be attributed to a potion that... my father   
developed and gave to me."  
  
Harry couldn't help but repeat Severus words in his query, sitting forward a little on the   
bed he sat on and glancing at Severus' hair which had its customary appearance. "A   
potion? Did he tell you what it was for? Or did he..."  
  
Lips pressed together into a brief and thin line, Severus replied, "He may have given it to   
me on the sly when I was home for the summer holidays. But upon my return to   
Hogwarts, he found a marvelously plausible reason for me to use it on my own. In fact,   
I've done so ever since then." Pausing a moment, Severus arched an eyebrow at Harry as   
though in wait for an exclamation of some sort from him. Harry wisely kept his mouth   
shut.  
  
Centering his attention back upon the opposite window, Severus continued, "You might   
have guessed that I have undergone a large number of pranks in my years as a student,   
most of which were perpetrated by your father and his friends." To Harry's relief, Severus'   
voice and aura maintained its neutrality apart from remembered annoyance. "One of their   
more successful pranks which landed me in a good deal of trouble was with the use of   
the polyjuice potion." The irritation flared into anger, but only briefly as Severus   
muttered, "Using my own specialty of potions and a strand of my hair against me."   
Shaking his head, he added, "I determined that I wasn't about to be taken advantage of   
that way ever again. My father learned about it when Dumbledore performed an official   
inquiry, and so developed the potion for my use the next school year."  
  
Dying of curiosity, it took Harry a good deal of effort not to ask what the prank had been;   
he knew it would push Severus in a direction he didn't want him to go. Instead, he just   
nodded to show his attentiveness and hoped Severus would continue.  
  
Thankfully he did, after a pause for thought and a rather suspicious glance at the carafe   
of water on the table between them. Severus' voice was roughened by dryness, but he   
made no move to reach for a glass of water. "The potion was meant to be brushed into   
my hair after I had showered. My father indicated that it would protect my hair in my   
potions work, and that it would also prevent it from falling out casually, thus making it   
much more difficult for anyone to procure my hair for use in any sort of potion or   
experiment whatsoever. That is indeed what the potion did, but apparently that isn't the   
only thing that it did," he finished with a gesture at his sallow features.  
  
"So then, that's the stuff I felt on your hair back in the shack? The stuff that changed the   
color of the cloth, but not my skin?" Harry was intrigued. "Makes sense to make the   
potion not react that way to skin if you don't want the color changing properties to be   
noticed."  
  
"Very good, Potter," Severus muttered. "Perhaps I'll give you an assignment to theorize   
what ingredients were used in the potion from its symptoms and consistency. Merlin   
knows you could use the extra credit to improve your potions grade."  
  
Harry wasn't entirely sure if he should smirk or not, so instead he asked, "Do you think   
Dumbledore will tell us everything?"  
  
Severus' gaze lowered to the long fingers that he had calmly folded to rest upon his lap,   
but again Harry was somewhat relieved to see that the anger was somewhat diminished   
in Severus' aura. "The Headmaster gave his Oath, and that is something not taken lightly   
by any wizard. He didn't specify when he would speak of it, but the preparations he   
mentioned aren't ones that should take more than a day or two." For a moment, his   
carefully controlled voice contained an irritated tone to it as Severus added, "He has had   
near to twenty years to make his preparations if he indeed learned of this just after ...   
the incident in the Shrieking Shack."  
  
Watching Severus' reactions, Harry reminded himself not to ask for Severus' take on that   
incident anytime in the near future. "Maybe after Dumbledore tells us about the   
background of this all we could return to your... device and see what it has to say? How   
long does it take to work?"  
  
"It rather depends upon the complexity of what is found. When I have set it to check me   
over and there is nothing new for it to find, the results are a matter of mere minutes.   
With all of the recent changes, plus the addition of you to the scan, it will likely take a   
few days to a week. And at any rate," Severus continued without pause, "You will be   
staying here until you are released by Madame Pomphrey. My healing potion works well,   
but it is for general problems and also contains a good dose of several items which gives   
the drinker a burst of temporary energy. The final dose you took will be wearing off soon,   
and you'll likely be sleeping for the next day or two."  
  
"Then so will you," Harry countered.  
  
"I've had the benefit of a number of years of endurance training in my field and am older   
than you." Severus was firm on the account, but wasn't overly harsh about it as he was in   
past years, "I will not argue further with you on this. You don't have rooms of your own,   
and I do. You will recover here, and once the immediate danger has passed I will recover   
in my chambers while working out the next step."  
  
"A good plan, Severus," Dumbledore's voice came from the door to the private section of   
the Hospital Ward. "It will give you time to read up on the prophesy." Pausing for a   
delicate moment, he added, "Not to mention what it was that I did, and what I believe   
Voldemort did to you. The spells were quite complex, and I haven't been able to work out   
how they managed your physical changes. I didn't see a sign of a spell on you that did   
that."  
  
"It wasn't a spell," Severus muttered before once more explaining about his father's   
potion and what it was purportedly for.  
  
Slowly shaking his head, his blue eyes again dimmed with regret, Dumbledore sighed,   
"Yet another time I failed you then, Severus." Sitting on a nearby chair, Dumbledore was   
looking older and tired more frequently than Harry wanted to see.  
  
Silence dragged on for an uncomfortable time before Severus murmured, "Not everything   
is your fault... Albus. You could not control the Marauders short of the Imperius- although   
that would have been most pleasant- and you had to investigate the matter, notifying   
my father in the process."  
  
"But doing so hurt you in the long run, Severus," Dumbledore maintained. Looking at   
Harry he sighed, "It hurt you both, and that is the one thing I do regret. I only hope that   
one day you will be able to forgive me."  
  
Another pause as some of the repressed anger ebbed from Severus' aura to be replaced   
by a regret of his own. "... We shall see, Albus. In the meantime, if your preparations are   
complete I believe that Harry and I would like to hear about this prophecy we have   
become a part of." 


	23. Prophecies and Progression

A/N: Between RL interference (that blasted RL!) and having too many wonderful HP stories to read (those blasted stories!) I've apparently gone one day further in lateness (sorry!). I still expect myself to keep it up to once a week, so while I'm posting this story for last week, there will still be a chapter for this week.  
  
My thanks to those who read and especially those who review. Disclaimers apply as always.  
  
----------------------------------  
  
Chapter 23  
  
Raising his hand with a look of concentration, Dumbledore murmured, "Allow me to complete the safeguards, and I will begin to explain." He fell silent and began to weave a pattern in the air, causing Harry's skin to tingle with the sense of power. It was as though the air was thickening around him; the best comparison he had was being in the airplane for the first time on the trip to New York with the Dursleys, when the air was pressurized. It felt stronger than that, and certainly more comfortable as it didn't cause his ears to pop. There was a sense of safety, and even the customary noises that one doesn't pay attention to became subdued. All in all, a potent reminder of the extent of Dumbledore's power. Severus' lips were pressed together as though he too sensed the power behind the intent, but he refrained from comment or restlessness.  
  
Dumbledore produced a small sheaf of parchment of varying ages and condition, carefully wrapped around two very old looking scrolls. "The prophecy would be more accurately described as prophecies; snippets of insight have been gathered from even before the time of the Founders. Rowena Ravenclaw was the first to notice that a few of the unexplained products of past divination actually had some common ground. She kept careful notes upon this, a minor project of hers, which was taken up in later years by a few others interested in the topic." Placing the pages on the table next to Severus' bed, Dumbledore took out another piece of parchment which, while it was newer than the others still looked to have weathered a number of years. "I've condensed the prophesies themselves here. When you have additional time, you can read the notes, history and other errata as well."   
  
He held the page out to Severus who accepted it for perusal. "I'm afraid that most of this was translated from different languages, so don't expect poetic cohesion," Dumbledore warned. Severus merely shot him a look and muttered, "Perish the thought," before inspecting the offering. When Harry snuck closer to read over Severus' shoulder, the professor didn't immediately stiffen or glare. Living up to Gryffindor bravery, Harry took it a step further and sat on the edge of his bed so as to be able to read the page without undue strain, but kept a healthy distance from the aura which was tinged with just a little irritability now. Both man and boy were too curious to take up the topic of personal space; instead they just read:  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
'The second darkness shall be in Twenty  
The Vision is blocked till they both see differently'  
  
'Believed opposites, they are the same.  
One is the Power while the other is the Key'  
  
'The Power shall first sleep until after the Fall  
It shall next sleep until after the Separation'  
  
'Together greater than the sum  
They shall be used for the ends of others'  
  
'The future will be filtered through their fate  
More than one generation shall span their influence'  
  
'Their Power is twinned, but not held by both'  
  
'The second generation hated by the first  
Brought together and bound by the Power'  
  
'Light is shed over the second Darkness  
Else the Darkness shall overwhelm'  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
With Severus seated nearby, Harry was able to easily place a supportive hand upon his shoulder when Severus winced and listed to one side as though he were in the throes of a migraine, a dizzying spell, or both. When a shadow of darkness began to surround Severus and tried bleeding throughout his aura, Harry scowled and started running through what he thought of as processing the Voldemort-shaped Severus energy. Luckily because of the extent that Harry did this the last time, the energy wasn't able to form itself quickly enough to escape Harry's grasp. Dumbledore's shaped energy didn't form itself for more than a few seconds before Severus' energy was his own again.  
  
Even as he was still too stunned to sit up straight, Severus bit out his words in anger, "Is there no way to bring that reaction to a halt? I cannot stay here forever, and I am finding this highly annoying."  
  
"I'm afraid that I would need to do a bit of... study into the conditioning you are under, Severus." Dumbledore's eyes darkened broodingly; a first in Harry's experience, but Severus only grimaced as though all too familiar with the expression. As Severus had been and still was a spy for Dumbledore, Harry could see where Severus might have seen it before.  
  
But this grimace was only another symptom of Severus' irritation, tainted by bitterness. "Study? I had the distinct impression that you'd already done so in your efforts in countering Voldemort's work with your own."  
  
With a sigh for the dark implications to the truth, Dumbledore retrieved the parchment from where Severus had dropped it, placing it with the others on the table. "Having no magical bond with you, I was only able to analyze the more obvious spells and set up a counter to those. It was my hope that the bond of Power spoken of in the prophecies would allow the other to assist you more ably." With a nod to Harry, he added, "And it seems you have been able to thus far, my boy. I am also quite glad to see that you are willing to."  
  
Harry felt a surge of anger that came and went with the swiftness of a magnesium flare; spectacularly bright one moment and leaving only the after image in the next. "Yes," he said with certainty, hoping the Headmaster wasn't about to ask for detailed explanations while Severus' behavior towards him hadn't yet stabilized.  
  
Dumbledore's perceptiveness was once more proven as he looked between Severus and Harry before sitting up and murmuring, "You have a goodly amount to read for the moment, Severus... Harry. I believe I'll avail myself of the time to further the preparations so that we can get you out of the Hospital Wing soonest." With that he rose from his chair, brushing the nearly invisible creases from the rich folds of his maroon robes.  
  
"Very good," Severus muttered as he slowly pressed himself to sit up against his pillows again. "Thank you very much," he added with a similar touch of subtle sarcasm.   
  
Harry decided to take another risk and took Severus' arm to help settle him. He received a pointed look for the effort, but at least it wasn't a glare. "Good day, Headmaster," Harry nodded.  
  
"Good night, Harry," returned Dumbledore. "I should think that you'll be here until tomorrow. I hope that you'll both get some rest. If you are in need of assistance, Madame Pomphrey is in the main room." And with that, he left the private ward.  
  
A sigh escaped Severus as he leaned back on his pillows, the sun streaming through his black hair from the window behind him. "So then, Harry. Was that the last time for that particular experience?" Gesturing with one hand vaguely, he added, "Did you ... remove Voldemort's influence from the last of the energy he'd had a hold of?"  
  
Harry concentrated in thought. "I think I got all of the energy that I could... but there's a source somewhere. Whatever activates it has a bit of the energy all its own so that it can ... can sense when you're doing something Voldemort doesn't want you to do. I'd ... prefer to look for things like that when ... Dumbledore's on hand to ..."  
  
"To make sure you don't do something idiotic and turn me into a magical vegetable?" Severus inquired with black humor. "Entirely understandable; I'd prefer that you waited as well. In the meantime, go to sleep." 


	24. Initiations and Inquiries

A/N: I was actually surprised to find more people commenting on the 'humor' of Snape's  
'magical vegetable' statement than any thoughts on finally reading the prophecies   
Dumbledore had found. Well, that's what's great about reading reviews; you all   
frequently surprise me. For your enjoyment, there is a carefully hidden D&D pun for the   
painful enjoyment of any gamers reading.  
  
This chapter has been ever so slightly revised to improve some formatting mistakes and   
a spelling error. I'm hoping that doing so won't somehow delete any of my reviews...  
  
Insert disclaimer here. Wipe drool off of screen while I think about how much time has to   
pass before Book 5 is released. Have additional thoughts on if it might be better to   
finish the story before that happens... Appreciate readers and reviewers. Hope my verb   
tense doesn't confuse anyone.  
  
---------------------  
  
Chapter 24  
  
Snape felt the sensations of dream and subconscious; vaguely he was able to understand   
that he was indeed dreaming and for a split second wondered if he might actually be   
remembering something else before he became fully submerged in the events playing   
themselves out before him...  
  
//A house stood before him and a blonde young man stood next to him, gazing as he did   
at the muggle-like yet foreboding structure. "Why here?" Lucius muttered thoughtfully to   
himself and his companion. "Father once described the ritual; it's usually done outdoors-   
the more elemental the surroundings the better."  
  
"If Lord Voldemort wishes to explain himself, I'm certain that he will," Severus   
responded, just as thoughtfully. "Perhaps he has a special purpose in mind, or perhaps   
we will be traveling to your elemental plain from here." Severus himself was nearly   
overcome with curiosity. Such a sense of power could belong to only one place; a place   
owned and dominated by Lord Voldemort. He burned to see the inside, to learn more   
about the man he so respected by analyzing the structure... to browse the extensive   
library he was certain to have. But although Lord Voldemort seemed somewhat fond of   
Severus, he was certain that this wouldn't be an occasion during which he would have the   
opportunity. This was business. His destiny awaited him tonight.  
  
The two couldn't help but shiver a little as they passed through an almost palpable   
barrier that surrounded the house; they knew that if they had not been permitted to   
enter it would have likely done something entirely unpleasant to them. Before entering   
the house Severus and Lucius glanced at each other- a last opportunity to both reassure   
at the same time they measured each other up for possible hesitation or second   
thoughts. Being true Slytherins and having the experiences they did, neither of them   
paused again before entering and finding the room where they were instructed to meet   
the others.  
  
"Ah, Lucius," the rich voice called. "Severus. How good to see the two of you." The room   
they found themselves in was bereft of furniture apart from a thick oak platform which   
looked to be a part of the wooden floor around it, located at the opposite end of the   
large square room.  
  
What came as a surprise to the young men is that there were no more than eleven other   
Death Eaters and Voldemort himself. They had come to understand that Initiation nights   
were attended by most if not all of the followers, and this group represented only a small   
fraction- although after he included Lucius and Voldemort himself which brought the total   
to thirteen, Severus knew that he was in for a very interesting initiation that night.//  
  
* * * * *  
  
Harry felt his sleep grow restless and disturbed before he suddenly woke, the burning of   
his scar increasing to a pained crescendo. Clamping a hand to the scar and struggling to   
sit up, Harry turned to check the blurred form on the bed next to him. Severus was   
breathing heavily as though under some heavy strain. Groping one handed for his glasses   
and calling loudly for Madame Pomfrey, Harry jammed them onto his face just as Severus'   
gasps became a scream of pain.  
  
By then Madame Pomfrey had nearly materialized from out of nowhere, passing Harry's   
bunk with a quick glance at him to measure his condition before moving to tend to   
Severus whose unconscious body was arched in agony. Harry's scar still hurt him like the   
blazes, but there was no way he was going to distract the nurse from taking care of   
Severus first. Besides, it was quite possible that Harry's own pain was stemming from   
Severus', a conclusion that the highly competent Pomfrey seemed to come to as well as   
she carefully tried to waken him.  
  
Reaching an arm beneath Severus to support him, Madame Pomfrey settled her other   
hand upon his forehead as she chanted a quick charm and then called to him. "Severus-   
wake up!" She moved her hand from his forehead to reach for Severus' left arm, frowning   
grimly upon the revelation of the Dark Mark's turning black and emitting a large amount   
of heat. "Severus!" she called again before sending another charm spiraling into him, one   
that Harry deciphered as a shielding coolness. As Severus began to slowly respond,   
Pomfrey gave a sigh of relief and called Harry over.   
  
Rather than wasting time with an explanation, she indicated the table between the bunks   
which held the pitcher of water and glasses, gave Harry a packet of powder and   
instructed, "Fill a glass with that and the water, drink half of it, and help me give Severus   
the other half. Only after Harry had begun to do so did she add, "Albus tells me that the   
two of you have become linked, and that you've helped to heal him before," she briskly   
said as she gestured him to approach Severus' bunk opposite her. "He's caught in this   
dream until it plays out- which means that it is likely a memory. We need to help him   
ride it out with a minimum of pain." As Harry drank she positioned Severus so that they   
could feed him the potion without drowning him and noted, "The potion will dampen the   
worst of the pain and stop the feedback loop. Good boy," she added as Harry brought the   
glass and assisted her.  
  
Once the potion had been consumed by both, Harry found that he could breathe easier-   
his scar was subsiding, and Severus seemed to be able to manage as well, falling silent   
once more apart from the quiet gasping from someone dealing with lingering rather than   
immediate pain.   
  
Madame Pomfrey settled Severus back down, brushing gently at his cheek before   
regarding Harry with a sad glance and rising to escort him back to his own bunk. "I'm   
sorry to see you both hurting like this," she murmured in a gentler tone than her   
customarily efficient one, "But at least you don't have to go through this alone any   
longer. Either of you," she added with a pointed gaze between the two wizards. "If you   
both can just accept the help from each other..."  
  
Harry furrowed his brow as the concerned nurse drew the covers up to Harry's chin. "I'm   
trying, Madam Pomfrey," Harry quietly replied. "I want to help him... but because of what   
happened to him..." Rather than saying aloud what he didn't want to think about, he   
trailed off and looked at Severus who seemed to be resting quietly again.  
  
"There are a lot of challenges to get through, the least of which will be from yourselves,"   
Pomfrey sighed. While she seemed fond of Harry, she acted more protective of Severus in   
her efforts to get Harry to understand. "It took a long time before Severus accepted that   
I wouldn't ... use my knowledge of him against him should he come to me for help.   
Albus, Minerva and I have been hard pressed to keep him in one piece since he first came   
back to us." With a sudden study of Harry's expression, she measured how well he was   
coping, lightly brushing at his scar which had faded from the irritated red it had been   
before. "You'll do well. Now get some rest and build up your strength. I'm having lunch   
for you sent up here in an hour, and I'll want to check you both over after that horrible   
experience."  
  
"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," Harry responded, both for her care and for her words.  
  
Seeming aware of both meanings, she smiled and left the private ward with a whisper of   
her robes behind her.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Surfacing into consciousness, Severus breathed deeply before opening his eyes to the   
brightness of the Hospital Ward walls. Sunlight streamed in from the windows, and a   
youthful voice piped up from a bunk next to him. "Severus. Are you feeling better?"  
  
"I'd be able to answer that more easily if I knew what condition I was in before," Severus   
muttered. Struggling to sit up, Severus got his elbow under himself and turned to look   
towards the voice. "Oh. Harry," he muttered to himself before sighing. "I suspect that I'm   
feeling much better now considering where we are." Falling back upon the pillows,   
Severus lifted the sleeve of his left arm and scowled at the Dark Mark.  
  
The young but tired voice continued, "Madam Pomfrey said that you were likely having   
memory recollections rather than dreams; she tried waking you and couldn't." Severus   
decided then that Harry must be continuing with the tradition of upholding Gryffindor   
Bravery, although it was mingled with a bit of information and the lack of a demand for   
information in return unless he offered it freely.  
  
Severus transferred his scowl upon Harry, but it wasn't focused enough to do any   
damage. "You might say that," he muttered, drawing his sleeve down again. Rather than   
not replying further and giving Harry more time to concentrate on the aura he'd once   
claimed he could see. He'd give him the information he wanted, and see how he dealt   
with it. "I was recalling my initiation as a Death Eater. And the steps that Voldemort   
took afterwards to further control me."  
  
"Oh," was Harry's faint reply.  
  
"You're looking faintly green around the edges," Severus observed with a smirk. "Hardly a   
flattering color for a Gryffindor." 


	25. Phoenix and Protection

A/N: Here comes yet another bit of subject matter for the plot. 'Ware the Boom! ;) I'm   
not certain if in the HP universe there is only one Phoenix in existence at one time; our   
mythology (that which I've found) says that is the case. I think it's implied in the HP   
universe that there is more than one, or everyone who knew of what was in the core of   
Harry and Voldemort's wands would have known what Phoenix gave them. You'll see why   
I mention this when you read this chapter...  
  
I always love getting reviews and value them all greatly. Insert disclaimer thing here.  
  
-----------------------------------------  
  
Chapter 25  
  
Harry was just about to comment upon Severus' sense of humor when he heard a distant   
squawking noise and an exclamation from Madam Pomfrey in the next room. Both of them   
turned to look just in time to witness the door which had previously been ajar being   
pushed open, and the colorful form of Fawkes flying into the room. He circled the smaller   
ward once, perhaps out of a vain opportunity to allow the two wizards to properly admire   
his grace and plumage, before settling upon the edge of Severus' bed stand, trilling   
gently.  
  
Eyeing the majestic bird with an expression that couldn't quite make it to irritated,   
Severus inquired of him, "Well, Fawkes. What are you here for, then?"  
  
"He can't answer you, can he?" Harry couldn't help but ask, hoping that Severus wouldn't   
take offense from the question.  
  
"He cannot speak English and is not telepathically inclined that I've ever noticed," was   
the mild reply, "But he has his own ways of making things known if necessary. Well?"   
Severus prompted again, his eyes still rimmed with exhaustion as he sat back against his   
pillows. "Is there something needed for the Headmaster, or is this just a social call?"  
  
Fawkes just blinked calmly as he regarded first Severus and then Harry who smiled at the   
bird and said, "It's good to see you, Fawkes. See? We made it back. We're safe."  
  
Severus snorted, darkly amused at the last statement.  
  
For his part, Fawkes seemingly decided that enough was enough of this simple   
conversation and let out a stream of music to take the breath away of even the most   
hard-hearted and flew again, this time to settle upon the table between the two bunks.  
  
"I hate it when he does that," Severus muttered after several moments. Glancing at the   
phoenix, he added, "Fawkes- you're about to knock my wand off of the-" there was a   
clatter of wood against the floor, and Severus ended with, "... table. In all this time has   
the Headmaster not taught you manners or common sense?"  
  
Unoffended, Fawkes lifted off of the table and settled upon the ground. Harry grew   
worried when Fawkes seemed about to pick up Severus' wand with his beak, quickly   
asking, "He won't accidentally snap it in half?"  
  
Severus shook his head slowly as the wand was collected. "He's got enough control to   
avoid that. I only wish he'd used his claw as it tends to leave less phoenix spit on the   
wood. Thank you, Fawkes," he muttered, "Apparently he knows enough of our condition-   
I'm certain Madam Pomfrey wouldn't appreciate our use of magic until we've her seal of   
approval, or at least until after Albus has finished his barrage of tests." Extending his   
hand towards Fawkes, he awaited the phoenix's return of his wand.  
  
Instead, Fawkes flew up to Harry's bunk and settled there, Severus' wand in his beak.  
  
Harry felt his eyes widen as he reached up to adjust his glasses, making certain that the   
bird offering him Severus' wand wasn't in fact an apparition. "Uh... Fawkes. That's   
Severus' - give it to him, not me." He chanced a glance over at the other bunk and   
anxiously considered the scowling wizard, fitful sparks of uneasiness coming to light in   
his previously calm aura. Making shooing motions at Fawkes, he tried again, "Go on now.   
Bring it over to Severus, please."  
  
Ignoring Harry's urgings, Fawkes dropped Severus' wand upon Harry's coverlet.  
  
Remembering the last time he tried touching Severus' wand, Harry made no move to pick   
it up. "Fawkes, please give Severus his wand. Neither of us are full of pep and vigor, and   
I'd really appreciate it."  
  
Fawkes just shook his head negatively at Harry, indicating the wand with a glance, a   
chirp and a trill. Looking from Harry to the wand and then to Harry again, Fawkes let out   
a brief melody before he hopped to the opposite side of Harry's bed, leaving the wand   
where it was.  
  
At long last, Severus made his displeasure known and growled with annoyance, "Just give   
it here, Potter. My wand didn't kill you last time; it is unlikely to do so now."  
  
Pouting a little at Severus' tone and use of his last name, but at the same time pleased   
that Severus trusted him enough to pick up his wand, Harry prepared himself for the   
shock from its touch. Surprisingly, he only experienced a faint spark before it felt almost   
warm in his hand. Fawkes gave a trill of approval as Harry refrained from comment,   
leaned across the space between the bunks and gave Severus the wand handle first.  
  
As both of them touched the ends of the wand they couldn't help but gasp as a rush of   
energy passed through them. "What in Merlin's name was that?" Severus exclaimed.   
  
Harry felt there was a stronger way to phrase that, but as Severus seemed to be trying to   
keep his language clean, Harry did the same and kept quiet. He was glad of that when   
Dumbledore entered the ward again.  
  
"Ah, there you are Fawkes. What have you been up to?" As Fawkes flew over to perch on   
Dumbledore's shoulder and greet him by preening his hair, Dumbledore made his way to   
the chair. Fawkes trilled in his ear as he sat down. "I see. Time for that, is it. Good."  
  
"Albus?" Severus questioned with a touch of irritation as he absently wiped his wand   
upon his covers.  
  
"Gentlemen," Dumbledore greeted in turn. "This is actually something new which has just   
come to light for me this afternoon. But apparently not new to Fawkes," he added with a   
stern look at the bird who resettled himself with dignity upon his human perch. "It does   
explain the swiftness of Fawkes' affection for Severus, however. Normally it takes some   
time before Fawkes so completely accepts a person, but he took to Severus right away.   
You remember, don't you, Severus?"  
  
"Quite," was Severus' murmured reply. "It was my first visit to your office as a student. I   
believe it was the result of the third round of pranks between the Marauders and myself   
with Lucius."  
  
"They didn't enjoy turning green and emitting gas-filled bubbles when they tried to   
speak," Dumbledore shook his head sadly as Harry tried to choke down his laughter and   
look properly affronted on behalf of his father, godfather and ex-Professor.  
  
"Yes, well I didn't appreciate the dung-bomb they had slipped into my cauldron. Lucius   
was quite put out as well; we couldn't get the smell off for a full week," Severus snarled.   
"The interaction with the potion we had been making in class made certain of that, but   
had they done it a week earlier, the interaction would have caused a very nasty   
explosion. Would you have preferred that?"  
  
"Of course not, Severus. But let's get back to the original topic at hand. Upon sighting   
you, Fawkes flew over to greet you as though he had been waiting to do so for a long   
time. He was terribly sad for days afterwards." Dumbledore lifted a hand to gently run it   
down the back of Fawkes neck, earning an appreciative sigh.  
  
"And you've discovered why?" Eyeing the phoenix warily, Severus set his wand back upon   
the table.  
  
"It is a matter of your wand," Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Apparently there   
was another wand that Fawkes gave something of himself to create."  
  
"But I thought Fawkes gave only two feathers, that my wand and Voldemort's shared   
them," Harry protested softly.  
  
Dumbledore's expression was kind and patient as he replied, "Indeed, that is true, Harry.   
Severus' wand does not contain a phoenix feather. It contains ash."  
  
Staring at Fawkes in amazement, Severus murmured, "You mean that the phoenix ash is   
from Fawkes?"  
  
"Indeed, it is. The wand chooses the wizard, and it seems that your fate was designed to   
some extent." Gently Dumbledore explained, "Harry had difficulty touching your wand.   
Voldemort would have the same trouble, if not more due to his intentions towards you as   
well as his lack of the bond. Were there any ... occasions that you recall where he did   
touch your wand?"  
  
Slowly Severus shook his head, his voice both troubled and wondering, "He ... always had   
someone else remove it that I can recall. ... Removing it before working his spells upon   
me."  
  
"You see? Fawkes was trying to protect you ... but wasn't entirely successful,"   
Dumbledore sadly murmured, turning towards his familiar and placing an affectionate   
hand upon his head. "Poor Fawkes. You've given so much to try and help."  
  
Severus eyed the phoenix again without expression, and Harry stirred himself from his   
amazed stupor long enough to investigate Severus' aura which was an unappetizing clash   
of emotions. Resentment, anger, bitterness, sadness ... and a reluctant gratitude.   
Turning back to Dumbledore, Harry asked, "But why did he do what he did just now? He   
gave me Severus' wand."  
  
With a touch of surprise and then comprehension, Dumbledore answered, "I believe that   
Fawkes must have been attuning Severus' wand so that it would no longer harm you   
should you need to touch it." With an almost dark quirk to his smile, he added, "I suspect   
that the effect upon Voldemort should be pronounced now that the wand knows which of   
the brother wands it should guard against."  
  
With a decisive chirp and a burst of complicated melody, Fawkes rewarded the human   
wizards for their understanding. 


	26. Supper and Switches

A/N: I'm very pleased at the amount of response I've gotten thus far; thank you very   
much. One of you even saw where I was headed with the next part of the story. ;)   
  
Disclaimers apply as always.  
  
-------------------------------------------  
  
Ch. 26  
  
The day passed into night swiftly with the past conversations and revelations to fill the   
time between the short snatches of sleep the wizard and student were able to take. Soon   
it was time for preparations to be made for their final meal... and hopefully deep sleep.   
Dumbledore retreated with Fawkes, promising to come down again in the morning.  
  
The House Elves easily maintained their reputation for food that was both nutritious and   
desirable to the palate, especially with the drastically decreased number of people to   
feed in the castle. Even Severus found his mouth watering at the smells escaping from   
beneath the warming lid as Madame Pomfrey settled a tray upon a table that hovered   
securely over his lap. Satisfied at the sight of her patients being able to fend for   
themselves, Pomfrey stepped back and left them to it, calling over her shoulder, "You'll   
use the bathroom in here for your shower, Severus- you still need to remain within the   
wards for a while. Harry, you can use the bathroom out in the main ward in the   
meantime. I'll be back soon with your things."  
  
As the door softly closed behind her, the two wizards glanced at each other, forks in   
hand. Harry was pleased to see that Severus had calmed again and while he was   
brooding- and there certainly was plenty to brood about- he wasn't in one of his   
downward spirals of depression. Rather than staring back for too long, Harry offered   
Severus a sheepish grin and set his attention to shifting the location of his meal from the   
plate to his stomach.   
  
Harry's thoughts worked furiously on whether or not he should start pushing things again   
and ask Severus if he was going to use his potion treatment for his hair or not, and was   
greatly surprised when Severus quietly spoke after a few minutes of silence. "I expect it   
would be a good idea to refrain from using ... my Father's potion."  
  
When there was no further sign of conversation, Harry hesitantly replied, couching his   
manner and tone to be as respectful yet casually open as he could. "That would be a   
good idea, Severus. We still don't know everything that it does for certain, do we?"  
  
Severus didn't reply immediately, and glancing out of the corner of his eye Harry was able   
to see the cooler colors of sadness and hurt until they were brought back under control.   
When Severus spoke, his voice was as calm and thoughtful as ever. "Once I'm able, I'll do   
an analysis on the substance; find out its composition and process of brewing."  
  
Blinking with surprise and realization, Harry stared wide-eyed at Severus. "You don't brew   
it yourself then?"  
  
"No," Severus murmured, his gaze firmly remaining upon his plate. "My father sends me a   
supply occasionally, when I have need of it." With this he returned to his meal as did   
Harry who suddenly understood what was behind Severus' previous sadness and hurt.   
  
Severus had trusted his father to the extent of not questioning him and ...  
  
Harry shook his head to himself, feeling a surge of anger at the man who had worked   
with Voldemort against his own son. Although Harry wanted to believe that such a man   
must be evil and heartless, he couldn't discount Severus' reaction ... as though Severus   
had thought better of him. Severus was hurt by it- he hadn't been expecting that   
something from his father wouldn't be what he was told that it was. He believed in his   
father ... until now.  
  
There was also another issue to consider. With Severus' last statement and the   
information previously revealed, Severus knew that Harry realized all of this. Sure, in   
past Severus belittled Harry's abilities and intelligence the past four years, but with their   
new situation Harry was certain Severus didn't underestimate him- if he ever really did.   
The last thing Harry wanted was for Severus to withdraw into himself again, either out of   
anger and embarrassment over the situation with his father, or out of self-preservation   
and reluctance to let someone else get so close to him. Again Harry felt anger for the   
waste of opportunity that Severus' father had thrown away by giving his loyalties first to   
Voldemort.  
  
Wait a second- waste of opportunity?? Harry frowned fiercely and stabbed at the last   
piece of cutlet on his plate with a fierceness that caused Severus to start a little and   
glance over at him curiously. He couldn't manage sheepishness this time- not with how   
angry Harry was at himself, so Harry just muttered, "Sorry," and finished his meal. How   
could he frame it like that? Harry thought to himself. Severus was more than just an   
opportunity. More than just the cruel git of his past years. More than just a teacher that   
could give him a good grade. Even more than someone who just might be instrumental in   
keeping Harry's skin intact in his future confrontation with Voldemort.  
  
Severus was intelligent, brave and cunning. He was hurt, and Harry wanted that stopped.  
  
Movement from the other bunk alerted Harry to Severus' pushing the hovering table away   
in preparation for rising. Rather than question the wisdom of the action Harry carefully   
watched for any signs of trembling or weakness, pleased to see that their recent trials   
hadn't left too strong of an effect for Severus to manage.   
  
He'd made his careful way to the edge of the bed when Madame Pomfrey entered the   
room carrying two sets of towels and warm looking robes. "Ah, there you are. You'll need   
this," she smiled as she handed the items to Severus. Turning to regard Harry, she   
placed the other set on the bedside table. "When you finish up, you know where to go.   
And yes," she stated briskly to the both of them, "this means you're no longer strictly   
confined to bed, and no- you're not to leave the Hospital Wing yet." With that stricture   
sorted out to her satisfaction and without waiting for reply, Pomfrey walked back out,   
calling lightly over her shoulder, "Do let me know if you need any help, gentlemen."   
  
Harry felt himself blush, and spun his head around at the sound of a snicker from   
Severus. "The Boy Who Lived has hormones," he noted with amusement which faded as   
he glanced at the toiletries that Pomfrey had left with him. One hand plucked out a small   
cylindrical bottle filled with clear liquid, cradling it between elegant fingers before   
carefully setting it down on the nearest table. Silently, Severus made his way to the   
bathroom.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Harry's shower was uneventful, he wound up choosing the smaller shower stall over the   
respectably sized but not enormous bathtub in an effort to get clean quickly so that he   
could get a decent night's sleep.  
  
Dried and dressed in his nighttime robes, Harry emerged from the bathroom in the main   
ward of the Hospital Wing and smiled warmly at Madame Pomfrey as he started to make   
his way towards the isolation ward.  
  
The next thing he knew, he was opening his eyes to the sight of the matron's concerned   
features as she checked him over for concussion and bruises from where he lay on one of   
the isolation wing bunks. When her fingers gently brushed hair away from his scar, Harry   
flinched in pain and gasped for breath over a wave of nausea. "What happened?" he   
asked.  
  
"It appears that you've had a reaction to Voldemort's most recent attempt at summoning   
Severus," she softly murmured in thoughtful regard for the beginning of Harry's building   
migraine. "Now, sit up slowly and drink this."  
  
Harry sputtered around the glass as he tried visually searching the room for Severus.   
"Where is he?" he got out before Pomfrey more firmly applied herself to making Harry   
swallow the potion she held.  
  
"He's perfectly all right," she soothed, handing Harry a bar of chocolate and straightening   
again. "You blacked out for a few minutes, but the pain for both of you diminished once   
we got you back inside the wards. He's finishing his shower now."  
  
With a thankful sigh as the potion abated the nausea, Harry rested back against the   
pillows and made an attempt to gnaw at the chocolate he'd been given. "Just great," he   
muttered, "What are we going to do now? I thought this whole thing between us was   
supposed to be for the benefit of the Wizarding world; how can it work out when we're   
swooning at the slightest pain?"  
  
"I'd hardly call this the slightest pain, Harry," came Severus' voice from the direction of   
the bathroom. When Harry turned to look, he found that Dumbledore was helping Severus   
to walk, his manner concerned and brooding. Severus himself had stopped short, his   
words seemingly caught in his mouth which was still open slightly, and Harry couldn't help   
but regard the other in return, shocked. Severus' hair was somewhat softer and appeared   
to be more of a dark brown, but that wasn't what caused Harry's consternation.  
  
He didn't see an aura around Severus any longer. Frowning, he concentrated and tried   
again to no avail; it was difficult to do so with his scar still throbbing and his limbs still   
trembling in reaction to the most recent trauma. Just as Harry was about to voice his   
worries, Severus spoke again.  
  
"Calm down, Harry; we'll sort this out. So ... this is what you meant by the aura you   
spoke of." 


	27. Restoratives and Recognition

A/N: Thanks for your continued support and feedback; I really appreciate hearing from   
you all. Sorry this chapter is a bit late; I'm considering this one my 'quota' for   
last week. I still plan on writing one for this week. Warning: I'm posting this with   
only a minor check for spelling because I want to get this uploaded quickly.  
  
Disclaimers apply as always. Best when served warm.  
  
----------------------------  
  
Chapter 27  
  
Severus narrowed his eyes consideringly even as he watched Harry's widen in shock. It   
was quite fascinating, really... the detailed swirl of color present around the boy   
defined themselves with almost instinctive ease. Present was a mixture of confusion,   
worry that had ebbed ever so slightly at his previous words, curiosity, sudden   
comprehension and a good deal of pain which was very unpleasant to continue to look   
at. But then Severus never allowed pain of any sort to get in the way of his   
gathering of knowledge.  
  
Resuming his intended path back to his bunk with Dumbledore's fussing aid, Severus   
found he couldn't seem to remove his gaze from the youth. Without quite realizing it,   
he altered his path to stand at the side of Harry's bunk. Dumbledore, ever perceptive   
and swift acting, conjured a chair for Severus and settled him there. "How did you   
ever put up with this?" Severus inquired, thoughtfully comparing the aura and then   
the lack of auras surrounding Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey.  
  
"It wasn't so bad," Harry hesitantly replied.   
  
Severus watched as shades of uncertainty and unease blossomed around Harry; likely   
there was something the boy wasn't sure if he should say, so he prompted the boy with   
a brusque but not harsh, "Out with it. What is on your ... mind?" Severus was faintly   
pleased at the expected effect the pause had; Harry was familiar enough with Severus'   
behavior from his classes to know exactly what was left out of his last statement,   
and it gave Harry enough pause to transform his uncertainty into irritation, causing   
him to speak that much sooner and with less thought to guarding his words.  
  
"It's helpful," Harry stated with challenging bravado, meeting Severus' eyes without   
flinching despite the boy's weakness. "A tool, apparently, that is used to aid the   
other, and to heal."  
  
Frowning with increased concentration, his interest piqued despite himself, Severus   
asked, "And how did you do this?"  
  
Resting back on his pillows, Harry drew a deep breath. "The very first time I   
remember seeing your aura was when we were on our own and Voldemort tried summoning   
you. It was before you'd gotten your memory back. Voldemort wasn't pleased at finding   
you where you were and was punishing you with pain ... Your aura was riddled with   
holes and something ... malicious was flooding through them. I ... " Harry gestured   
in the air as though trying to describe something he couldn't. "... I stopped the   
influx and ... well ... flushed out what was causing the pain. I tried to ... smooth   
over the holes, but there were a lot of large ones that I couldn't fix completely."   
Behind Severus, Dumbledore had grown very still and silent; a sign of the man's   
continued low level distress.  
  
Speculatively, Severus squinted at Harry, tilting his head slightly as though to get   
a better look. With a bit of effort he rose from his chair to get a closer look at   
the aura before him. "From the look of you, Harry, I'd hesitate only a moment before   
comparing it to a slightly less developed appearance of Swiss Lorraine cheese. The   
holes in some areas are small but plentiful. Especially, and not unexpectedly, around   
your scar."  
  
Madam Pomfrey chose that moment to interject, "Mr. Potter seemed to take the brunt of   
the last attack, having been outside the wards." She looked deeply regretful and   
guilty at not having the forethought of an occurrence like that, and Dumbledore   
hastened to reassure her with gentle words of reassurance that managed to be   
unobtrusive enough to keep the previous conversation on track.  
  
"Perhaps ..." Severus hesitated before raising a hand, hesitating again before   
carefully touching Harry's wrist where there was some sort of disturbance in the   
aura; pain and a few small rips. "You seem to have damaged your wrist." Severus' next   
words were cut off when he gasped at the tingling sensation he felt, as though tiny   
pricks of electricity were jumping between the two of them at the point of contact.   
He swiftly drew his hand back.  
  
"Severus?" Dumbledore swiftly checked for signs of distress. "Are you all right?"  
  
"I'm fine, Albus," Severus muttered as he inspected his own fingers for physical   
evidence of whatever had happened and found none. Turning his attention back to   
Harry's wrist, Severus was able to see that the intensity of pain had lessened a   
small amount, making it less uncomfortable for Severus to study. Thusly reassured,   
Severus brought his hand to rest more firmly around the thin circumference of Harry's   
wrist, keeping it there as the prickling sensation resumed and eventually faded. When   
he drew his hand away to inspect the wrist again there was no evidence of pain and   
the holes had become the visual equivalent of protective scabs.  
  
From across the bed, Madame Pomfrey explained, "Harry fell on that wrist when he   
collapsed. The potion I gave him will heal it as well as the ankle he twisted while   
he sleeps. I was about to give him a small dose of Dreamless Sleep," she added. With   
a curious glance first at Harry's wrist and then the lessened strain in his   
expression, she murmured with a pleased tone, "You seem to have done him some good,   
however."  
  
"My wrist doesn't hurt anymore," was Harry's reply, staring up at Severus as he   
flexed his hand, testing it.  
  
"Hmmm," was Severus' only reply, busy analyzing the damage he saw further. The worst   
of it was centered around Harry's scar, and that location seemed to be spreading   
further non-physical distress to other areas. He wasn't eager to touch the scar due   
to recent experience, but it would be less than efficient to do anything else. Coming   
to a reluctant compromise, Severus murmured to Albus, "Please be ready to pull me   
away from him if something is amiss." Before Albus could finish the first words of   
his objection, Severus covered Harry's scar with his right hand.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Harry couldn't help but gasp at the sensation, his eyes falling closed. It was as   
though he'd been experiencing a sweltering summer day with no sign of relief from the   
heat and humidity before a sudden storm front pressed its way through, bringing on  
its heels refreshingly cool breezes and rain. Wherever the rain fell he felt the pain   
slowly ebbing, being neutralized and washed away from him. He let out a sigh of   
relief and sank into a blissfully dreamless sleep.  
  
He awoke to the gentle play of sunlight on his face and he enjoyed the light's warmth   
for some moments before stirring further and opening his eyes. Reaching for his   
glasses, Harry put them on and sat up, stretching with the simple pleasure of doing   
so without pain or stiff muscles.   
  
Looking over to one side he spotted Severus curled up on his bunk, still asleep. His   
professor still looked tired, yet he seemed more peaceful than before; a tiny smile   
quirked at the edges of his mouth as though in remembrance of some past event that   
had pleased him. With a grin, Harry decided he'd best not be caught staring at   
Severus when he awoke like that. Thankfully Madame Pomfrey chose that moment to bring   
in trays of breakfast for them.  
  
Pleased to see Harry awake and seemingly without pain, she set his tray to floating   
before him before sharing a conspiratorial grin with him upon Severus' current state.   
She gestured that Harry should lie down again before she called in a slightly louder   
than strictly necessary tone, "Wake up, Mr. Potter. Severus. It's time for your   
breakfast and then a checkup.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Severus jerk awake and sit up, quickly   
gathering his thoughts and composure. The curious and suspicious look he gave Harry   
upon sighting him led Harry to conclude that Severus was still able to see his aura.   
Harry tried to give his breakfast his full attention to keep his amusement from   
running rampant. Soon enough, breakfast, morning ablutions and medical checkups were   
completed and the two were left with time to themselves.  
  
Severus settled in the chair that Dumbledore had conjured the previous day, still   
supportive and comfortable from the sheer power put into it. Harry could easily   
understand that Severus much preferred to sit than to appear more vulnerable resting   
in his bed, but he was also pleased to see that Severus didn't put any effort into   
moving the chair away from Harry's bedside.  
  
"Let's have a look at the prophecies; there was something in them I recall which can   
have a different meaning since the events of last night," Severus suggested.   
Producing his wand with a smooth gesture, he murmured, "Accio Prophecy summary." From   
the pile of papers came the summary they had read from Dumbledore, but a small   
booklet also unearthed itself from the sheaf to be delivered to Severus- awkwardly   
hanging by the binding of the back cover. "Curious," Severus commented. Setting the   
booklet on the covers of Harry's bed for perusal later, Severus perused Dumbledore's   
parchment. "Yes, here it is... with company." He read:  
  
'One is the Power while the other is the Key'  
  
Tilting his head consideringly, Severus murmured, "This one was actually recent and   
in English, so the words aren't a matter of chance. It seems likely that the phrasing   
is more than creative license. One is the power, and while the one is the power the   
other one is the key. When one is the key, the other is the power. And here is   
further proof." Looking back to the list, he pointed out another line:  
  
'Their Power is twinned, but not held by both'  
  
"It seems that our abilities will shift- hopefully according to need," Severus added   
dryly. 


	28. Debates and Dropping by

A/N: I hope everyone had a happy and safe Memorial Day weekend. Yes, this chapter is late   
(again); sorry! I'm having trouble with my internet access at home. I'd actually intended   
this chapter to progress differently, but Harry and Severus had other thoughts about that  
as you'll read. ;)  
  
Thanks for reading and especially to those who review (and to those who review multiple   
times!). Disclaimers apply as always. Slippery when wet.  
  
------------------------  
  
Chapter 28  
  
Harry darted a glance at the list of prophecies and grinned, causing Severus to squint at   
the sudden warm wash of impishness and comprehension that overcame Harry's aura. Raising   
an eyebrow, Severus prompted in as much of a dry teacherly tone as he could manage, "Yes?"  
  
In reply, Harry continued to grin and leaned over to point out one of the other prophecies   
that Severus hadn't mentioned:  
  
'The Power shall first sleep until after the Fall  
It shall next sleep until after the Separation'  
  
Reading it over, Severus found that the distraction of Harry's aura made it difficult for   
him to concentrate fully. Having to resist a smile of his own in response to the warm   
humor so close to him didn't make it easy for him either. He frowned for a minute or so at   
the prophecy that Harry had indicated before he muttered, "Ah... The Fall, and the   
Separation."  
  
"Yes," Harry bounced a little on his bed, prideful at figuring out another piece of the   
puzzle. "You fell from your broom. Even after I-" Suddenly Harry's enthusiasm waned and he   
grew still before continuing, the colors surrounding him containing shock and a large   
amount of guilt as he muttered, "... when I found you and dragged you away from there, my   
fingers tingled. I thought they were falling asleep ... but you were twitching at first as   
though from aftershocks of the Cruciatus curse ... but later you weren't."  
  
"Harry," Severus broke into the halting monologue. "What is wrong? You ... remembered   
something?" It was his best interpretation of the shock and sudden change of emotion.  
  
Hesitantly Harry nodded, curling into himself a little. Widened green eyes regarded   
Severus who was able to discern wariness, uncertainty, and a certain amount of mournful   
hope- as though the more positive emotion didn't have enough motivation to make it through   
the guilt and grief that had nearly taken over the boy's aura.  
  
Severus sat back in his chair, trying not to scowl as he felt the beginnings of   
frustration at Harry's silence. He wasn't trained to psychoanalyze his students, nor was   
he inclined to. So then, what was he supposed to do to get the boy to talk? Reach out to   
touch his hand? He'd likely flinch away at this point. Stare until he broke down and   
spoke? Frightening the boy wasn't likely to produce desired results in his state of mind   
either. Blatantly truthful words? - heaven forefend, a smile?  
  
As Severus didn't want to watch Harry flee screaming from the safety of the warded rooms,   
he decided to settle for truthful words without the smile.  
  
"Silence isn't going to be of help to either of us, Harry," Severus began in stern tones,   
schooling himself to hide the impatience he could feel stirring within. Severus sighed as   
he watched the guilt suddenly drown under crushing grief, and Harry burrowed his face in   
the arms that rested upon his updrawn knees. It was as though the shell of his emotions   
had cracked under the sudden strain of remembering his previous remorse.  
  
Moments passed before Harry's voice was heard, choked and nearly impossible to understand.   
"... It's my fault." Self-recrimination and inwardly-turned hatred swelled.  
  
Furrowing his brow, Severus tried to understand what Harry was talking about. "Your fault?   
How can it be your fault that I fell from my broom. It wasn't you that cast the   
Cruciatus."  
  
Shaking his head from within the shelter of his arms, Harry rasped, "Cedric."  
  
Severus blinked once. "Cedric. You are referring to Mr. Diggory? You believe that it is   
your fault that he was killed by Voldemort?" he asked somewhat disbelievingly. Another nod   
was his reply. "Well, you're wrong," Severus harshly stated.  
  
When Harry's shoulders continued to tremble and no sign of acquiescence was at hand,   
Severus muttered, "Albus told me what happened. It wasn't you that killed him. It was   
Voldemort who cast the curse."  
  
"Because of me," Harry shuddered, his face still hidden and words muffled, his back bowed   
under his misery. "And I didn't stop him. I didn't do anything; just stood there."  
  
"You were likely still reeling from the portkey and gathering your wits from the surprise.   
Not to mention the rather strong tendency Voldemort has to inflict fear upon those around   
him, especially of late." Severus stated, keeping his emotions under strict control and   
trying to keep his thoughts from straying to his own painful past.  
  
Again Harry shook his head. "I should have done something. Anything."  
  
"Such as what?" Severus bit out. "Would you have preferred it if you threw yourself in   
front of the curse and got killed instead? Do you really imagine that Diggory would have   
survived for more than ten seconds after your death?" Not letting Harry express further   
regret, Severus plowed on. "Voldemort desires death and pain. I was told that you suffered   
the Cruciatus as well. It is quite likely that Mr. Diggory's death gave Voldemort some   
satisfaction and saved you from prolonged and multiple applications of the curse. In doing   
so, he also likely saved your sanity and saved the rest of us as well. Voldemort didn't   
realize that the other half of the Power is you; he already had reasons for taking you.   
Your blood could be taken whether or not your mind was still intact."  
  
Although he didn't raise his face, Harry's negative emotions ebbed just a little, no   
longer continually trying to tear himself apart. The emotional 'daggers' were poised   
however, ready to plunge and draw Harry's own blood forth in sacrifice to his perceived   
wrong. "But ... I should have found something to do ... to help him."  
  
That was enough; Severus felt his control break as he shot out of his chair and paced to   
the other side of the room so that he wouldn't strangle the boy. "Do you imagine I didn't   
feel that way when I was spying for Dumbledore?" Severus yelled. "Do you think I enjoyed   
watching Voldemort's victims killed? Tortured? Begging for their release while I stood   
silently and watched?" Severus spun around to face the pale boy who was now peering at him   
like a fragile china doll with fear and pain hovering all around it. "This is why   
Voldemort must be stopped. Not because he holds a different view, hating Muggles and   
Muggleborn wizards. Not because he is the Heir of Slytherin. Not because he speaks   
Parseltongue. Not even because he seeks immortality. But because he hurts others to gain   
his aims." Trembling, Severus struggled to regain control over his temper. A little more   
quietly, he added, "Voldemort's victims are not your fault, no matter what you did or   
didn't do. If you insist on staining your hands with Cedric Diggory's blood ... then my   
hands would never be clean of my own share of his victims."  
  
Feeling close to being overwhelmed once more, Severus turned and walked into the isolation   
ward's washroom and closed the door behind him.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Harry sat there, numbed in shock for several moments, staring at the closed door through   
which Severus had disappeared. He still felt the grief and helplessness, but now it   
partially had an immediate focus centered upon the man who had left the room in order to   
avoid the hurtful memories that Harry had caused him to bring to light. Unsteadily, Harry   
rose to his seat and moved from bed to bed, supporting himself on the edges before going   
on to the next one in his path towards the washroom. While Harry was awake, aware and felt   
physically better, his legs still felt weak. By the time Harry reached the door, he heard   
the shower turn on inside and he stopped short of opening it. Severus would be more than   
angry if Harry entered while he was in the shower, he was sure.  
  
Thankfully Harry was spared the decision with the entrance of the Headmaster who entered   
the ward, his manner warm but without his cheerfulness or amusement as was his habit of   
late. "Good morning, Harry," he softly called as he approached. "I had thought to let the   
two of you have some more time together before coming, but Fawkes had a difference of   
opinion about that. He thought it would be best if I visited now."  
  
Passing one hand over his eyes, Harry tried for a smile without much success as he leaned   
against the wall. "... We were talking ... I said things I shouldn't have ... Severus ..."   
With a gesture at the closed door behind which the sounds of water could still be heard,   
Harry subsided into a miserable silence.  
  
"Hmmm." Dumbledore regarded the door as he stopped by Harry, running a soothing hand over   
his head rather than ruffling his hair. "How long has he been in there?"  
  
"Just a few minutes; he turned on the shower a minute ago."  
  
"Ah. Well then," Dumbledore smiled calmly, "Let's get you settled back in your bunk and   
give him a chance to calm. I'll see if he requires assistance afterwards." As Harry   
started to voice a protest, Dumbledore's hand soothed Harry's hair again before starting   
him on his way. "Severus is a very practical man. This has been hard on him, but I am sure   
he will not do anything ... irrational."  
  
With a swiftness that Harry attributed to the remnants of shock and distress he still   
felt, Harry found himself settled in his bunk, watching the trailing edge of the   
Headmaster's robes disappear through the washroom door which closed behind him. Soon   
afterwards the faint sounds of the shower running were cut off as though a Silencing spell   
were used.  
  
Shivering uneasily, Harry turned his attention to the booklet that still lay on the covers   
of his bunk. 


	29. Palaver and Parchment

A/N: Real Life continues to try to make itself the largest influence in my existence,   
therefore the chapter for last week is again posted this week. I'm trying not to, but this   
may have a tendency to continue as I have to move over the next couple of weeks and will have   
no internet access at that location for the foreseeable future.  
  
Disclaimers apply as always. Work is best under the influence of chocolate.  
  
----------------------------  
  
Chapter 29  
  
Severus froze at the sound of the door to the ward opening, moving with the swiftness of   
learned reflexes so that by the time he heard the outer door close he had swiped at his face   
and hair so that there was no danger of water or soap dripping into his eyes, his hands were   
dry and his wand was firmly grasped and pointed at the door of the shower stall. It took him   
a moment to weigh the admittedly small risk that the person entering didn't belong at the   
school before he called out in quick succession, "Who's there? I'm warning you; you had best   
leave before I am prompted to cast something unfortunate upon you."  
  
"Now then, Severus, you know I dislike misfortune before I've had my morning danish and tea,"   
Dumbledore's most unpressing tones came from the other side of the washroom. Muttering curses   
under his breath, Severus quickly rinsed the rest of the soap from his hair and turned off   
the shower before casting a drying charm upon himself and dressing with haste. From the idle   
humming coming from across the room it seemed that Dumbledore was content to wait for Severus   
to emerge from the stall before continuing the conversation.  
  
Feeling the beginnings of renewed irritation he had managed to begin to shed under the   
pressure of the water spray, Severus made a last adjustment to his collar and opened the door   
of the shower stall. "Yes, Headmaster?" Severus' query was couched in a voice that let   
Dumbledore know his feelings about the interruption.  
  
With thoughtful concern, Dumbledore kept his voice quiet and carefully modulated; no doubt in   
an effort to keep me calm, Severus thought. I wager he's already cast a silencing charm on   
the door in case he's not able to. Severus sighed, walked to the sinks to tame his hair into   
something resembling dignity with a comb and listened. "There is a rather upset boy out there   
in the isolation ward."  
  
The mirror was given a glare, both to intimidate it into silence and to use the reflection to   
bestow the remainder of his temper upon the man who had weathered it time and again without   
so much as the bat of an eye. With the edge of his ire taken off, Severus factually replied,   
"Yes, it seems that he is still affected by the events of the third task. He blames himself   
for the death of Cedric Diggory, feeling that his actions were inadequate." To keep things   
under further control, Severus turned his concentration to his hair color which had lightened   
a little more and now more closely resembled the medium dark brown of his mother's.  
  
"Actually," Dumbledore murmured, "Harry didn't mention that to me at all. He said that he had   
spoken words that he should not have and showed great concern for your reaction to them."  
  
At those words, Severus turned around fully to regard the other wizard directly for the first   
time since his arrival. Dumbledore was seated on the comfortable bench by the door, his hands   
folded and unmoving in his lap, empty. Sighing, Severus kept his reply simple and distant;   
the last thing he wanted at this point was an emotional confrontation with Dumbledore, "Did   
he?"  
  
"He did," was Dumbledore's affirmation. The man was infuriatingly patient and was quite   
capable of out waiting a mountain in a contest to see which of them would wear down first.  
  
Severus couldn't help but grind his teeth in a brief inner display of wearing down of his   
own. One day it wouldn't be him that bends, he swore to himself. He wasn't sure if it added   
to his anger or assuaged it to know that Dumbledore knew him well enough that Dumbledore   
would indeed bend exactly the right amount for him- the day it became necessary. "I'll go and   
talk to him then, shall I?" Severus growled.  
  
"Once you're ready to, Severus," Dumbledore softly answered. A pause, and Dumbledore added   
almost hesitantly, "... I really don't want you to be hurt again."  
  
Severus just stared at him, caught between incredulity and ... something else he wasn't sure   
of.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Harry was fidgeting. He knew he was fidgeting, he knew why he was fidgeting, he knew he   
wasn't going to stop fidgeting anytime soon. It wasn't even a spectacular example of   
fidgeting; he didn't have the energy or focus for that. So instead, he made due with what he   
had.  
  
He picked at the booklet that Severus had left on his coverlet.  
  
It wasn't a spectacularly crafted booklet. It wasn't colorful, it didn't smell of power or   
the wisdom of ages ... about the only thing that could be said for it is that it looked very   
well preserved. Even the cover of the leaflet had remained intact over the years with only   
some minor discoloring of the pages. Why a leaflet had what amounted to a hardback's book   
cover was beyond him.  
  
Harry carefully removed the cover from the leaflet; he remembered Hermione once telling him   
about her fascination with seeing the inside covers of hardback books when she was much   
younger, having to be carefully watched whenever she was taken to a bookstore lest she strip   
a number of the books in her curiosity before she could be stopped. She reminisced on her   
pleasure of discovering leather surfaces and gold colored printing, how sometimes the script   
matched while other times they were a wondrously different world from the book's outer shell.   
It was almost in self defense that her parents taught her to read very early to distract her.  
  
The inside cover of the leaflet matched the outer one. Heavy paper, fancy calligraphy in   
black ink ... by Rowena Ravenclaw. His interest piqued, Harry decided to stop fidgeting and   
take a closer look. As he grasped the covers to skim the pages by slowly fanning them, the   
fingers of his right hand detected a small inconsistency. When Harry remembered that the   
booklet had traveled to Severus' hand by the Accio spell he had used and had hung by the back   
cover he gave that cover his full attention, squinting and gently running his fingers along   
the surface for what he had felt previously. There he found an extra page pasted to the   
inside of the back cover. It didn't look unusual; it could easily pass for the odd   
workmanship of older publications, but the behavior during the Accio spell prompted him to   
investigate further. It also made for a good distraction from the silent washroom door.  
  
Feeling the invisible wrath of Hermione for contemplating what amounted to damaging a book,   
Harry scrunched his shoulders up in guilt made worse as he hadn't thought of his two friends   
before less than a minute ago. It didn't stop him from following through however. His fingers   
tried catching at the edge of the extra paper without success. Using his short (and somewhat   
ragged) fingernails yielded marginally better results, and Harry eventually came away with   
the page... and a smaller square of parchment hidden inside.  
  
With a soft exclamation of triumph, Harry prized the parchment loose and turned it over to   
find...  
  
Nothing.  
  
It was a blank piece of parchment less than four inches square ... but it made his fingers   
tingle. Harry squinted at it harder as though that might be of some help in reading it, but   
there was no change. Frustrated, Harry lifted the extra page to inspect that more closely; he   
was at least able to discover that the parchment was likely sealed into the inner back cover   
of the book when it was first printed due to the discoloring difference of the outer and   
inner surfaces.  
  
It was in this condition that Severus and Dumbledore found Harry- dissected back cover in   
hand and extra piece of paper on the cover before him, squinting and muttering to himself. It   
took Harry several moments to realize that he had company, and he straightened with a   
sheepishly embarrassed grin which he couldn't make last for long without some sort of   
positive indication from Severus.  
  
The wizard so named blinked once as he absorbed the scene before him. Harry expected to be   
asked what he was doing, but then he forgot that seeing auras tended to give enough extra   
information that sometimes answers could be deduced logically. And Severus was very logical,   
proven by the question that eventually came from him. "What prophecy have you found?"  
  
Wordlessly Harry chose the smaller piece of parchment as the most likely to be useful,   
holding it out towards Severus. "It's blank, but I feel something there. I'm just not quite   
sure what it is. I found it inside the cover of the booklet that had come with your Accio   
charm."  
  
Severus slowly walked over to Harry's bunk, his stride deliberate and without the stalking   
movements he used when trying to intimidate large numbers of people in the classroom,   
hallways or the Great Hall. Long fingers plucked the parchment from Harry's hand and Severus   
made a startled noise even as Harry experienced a small shock of an undefinable feeling of   
his own.  
  
Expecting very little more from Severus as far as the parchment was concerned, Harry found   
himself fascinated by the slightly lighter brown of Severus hair. The black pools of Severus'   
eyes studied the parchment for longer than Harry thought was strictly warranted, even going   
so far as scanning back and forth as though reading before widening in shock. "This isn't   
blank Harry. It's a prophecy from Rowena Ravenclaw, addressed to us." 


	30. Ravenclaw and Revelations

A/N: First I must express my regret at my possibly horrific form of Middle   
English. Hopefully the story itself will make up for it. I tried uploading this   
earlier, but ff.net was having some sort of difficulty at the time. Be on the   
lookout for a one-part short story I'm putting the finishing touches on to   
make up for my recent lateness- you can read it here:   
http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1382382  
  
Disclaimers apply as always. Thank you to everyone for reading and for your   
reviews!  
  
-------------------------------  
  
Chapter 30  
  
Harry felt his previous depression and concern for Severus become briefly   
overwhelmed by the shock and amazement at Severus' proclamation. "A   
prophecy addressed to us specifically?"  
  
"Well," Severus drawled as he considered the parchment again, "Not by   
name, but most definitely by description, and by the fact that the writing   
magically revealed itself when it appeared blank before." Thrusting the page   
under Harry's nose, he inquired, "Can you read it now?"  
  
Squinting at the page again, Harry shook his head. "Still looks blank to me."  
  
"And to me as well," Dumbledore noted as he peered over Harry's shoulder.  
  
"Hmm. I expect that it would have something to do with which of the two of   
us is able to perceive the other's aura." More dryly Severus added, "You will   
likely be able to see the wondrous delight of Ravenclaw's script the next   
time we ... shift abilities."  
  
"Abilities?" Harry let his eyebrows rise incredulously. "I don't feel any   
different now then from before this whole thing started between us."  
  
"That is something we will have to experiment with. Once we are able to   
leave this protected area." Reclaiming the parchment, Severus gestured with   
a flourish, "As a matter of fact, that is what these words of wisdom are   
referring to."  
  
Son of Gryffindor, Head of Slytherin.  
Two lives altered by mine fellows,  
Have met them not yet live their lives  
In hatred and in friendship -  
I send this hidden help to you.  
  
Thy safety lies with each other.  
Together abilities are increased, especially upon touch.  
Efforts that seek thee harm shall be thwarted.  
One shall heal, shall know all the other requires  
While from the other shall emanate the magnified power of both.  
Trust in thy fate, and in thy friends.'  
  
Severus' voice fell silent and neither Harry nor Dumbledore seemed especially   
eager to shatter the solemn quiet while considering this new prophecy.   
When Severus spoke again, it was to the accompaniment of a small jump of   
startlement from Harry. Being more experienced, Dumbledore merely blinked   
as the words pressed themselves into being. "One might interpret that to   
mean that so long as Harry and I are together in some fashion we would be   
more capable of defending ourselves ... and developing our powers."  
  
A thoughtful hum came from the Headmaster of Hogwarts as he rubbed   
speculative at his chin. "It does indeed sound as though Rowena Ravenclaw   
has offered us further hope. After all, it would be difficult for the two of you   
to remain here in the isolation ward indefinitely."  
  
The reception of the idea from both man and boy was one of distaste. Both   
also seemed about to speak at the same time, but Harry's lack of hesitation   
in the words won out as he said with affection, "Stay here? With him? I'd go   
barmy!" He grinned.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Severus felt irritation at Harry's usurping of his sentiment, but he hadn't   
wanted to harm the boy again so had reconsidered the wisdom of the words.   
Doing otherwise and hurting Harry's feelings was hard on the eyes. But when   
he saw Harry's aura swirling now with amusement and ... was that affection?   
His own irritation was transfigured into amazement at the sight. From the   
past experience of Harry seeing and reacting to his aura, and from what   
Severus had seen of Harry's so far, the aura viewing seemed to be a   
painfully accurate source of information. But affection? From Harry Potter?   
Severus shook his head to himself before regarding Harry again. "It seems   
decided then. Once Harry has recovered we will leave the isolation ward.   
first we'll spend some time out in the main hospital area where the wards will   
be close at hand if necessary, and then we can continue from there."  
  
"But where will I stay?" Harry asked. Between his expression and the forlorn   
colors in his aura he seemed more a waif than a wizard.  
  
"You'll come with me to my office first; there is a great deal we will need to   
do in regards to learning to handle these new abilities and not a lot of time   
to do it in." Settling in what had quickly become his chair between the two   
bunks, Severus brooked no argument.  
  
"Gryffindor Tower can be made ready for habitation again, Harry,"   
Dumbledore offered, "But I think it might be best for you to stay close to   
Severus for now. There are one or two empty rooms in the dungeons which   
would serve nicely."   
  
Severus sighed, but saw the sense of Dumbledore's words and nodded. He   
didn't need to see Harry's aura to perceive his alarm. "But what about later?   
When the school year begins? What are we going to do then? Will I have to   
stay in the dungeons with the Slytherins? What will I tell Ron and Hermione?"  
  
"One question at a time, Potter" Severus quietly growled, his use of Harry's   
last name more of a focusing point for the boy rather than a gesture of   
disregard.  
  
"Severus, I must express a deep concern for your situation as it stands,"   
Dumbledore murmured, resting one hand upon the back of Severus' chair   
from where he stool next to it. "I don't want you to return to Voldemort,   
especially now."  
  
Before Severus was able to finish opening his mouth to deliver the withering   
sarcasm that was his knee-jerk response to the statement, Harry again trod   
over Severus' words with his own. "But is there no way to stop him from   
being summoned and causing him pain? At one point Voldemort was even   
speaking to him telepathically."  
  
It was with a good deal of control that Severus didn't turn his suddenly   
increased ire upon Harry- but that was abruptly cut short when he saw the   
colors in the boy's aura now. Fear. Not for Harry but for ... himself. Harry   
was afraid for him- protective, helpless and feeling an almost crippling worry   
as the boy wrapped his arms around himself, beseeching Dumbledore with his   
eyes.  
  
Almost absently, Severus wondered how many more times his accepted  
world view was going to be skewed under the influence of the   
aura-awareness. Keeping his voice factual, he leaned forward just a little   
towards the boy. "Potter. Harry. From our recent experience and the   
prophetic pieces of advice I should say that we have the answers to that,   
do you not agree? You will be my protection as I am yours."  
  
The boy turned suddenly to meet his regard, colors of shock and happiness   
wreathed around him at the pronouncement. "Really?"  
  
"No, Potter, I said that just to waste breath. Yes, really." Severus was   
treated to a more literal than he liked example of the phrase 'beaming smile'   
and found that he had to squint and look away briefly. He found that he   
didn't want to look away for long, however ... the warmth was something   
difficult to resist. Severus consoled himself with the fact that he had   
maintained his composure throughout. To distract the boy from continuing it,   
he waved a hand as though to disperse a patch of toxic fumes. "What little   
piece of insight did you have about the prophecies before this whole   
delightful soul baring session began?"  
  
Harry blinked with incomprehension for a few moments before remembering.   
"Oh! Erm." Having the grace to blush and squirm uncomfortably, even if only   
for a moment, the boy explained. "The one about the Fall and the   
Separation. My end of our powers- at least the aura part of it- became   
active just after you were cursed from your broom and fell, losing your   
memory. Your end of the powers started after we were separated for the   
first time after all of this by the protective wards."  
  
Severus nodded his acknowledgement of Harry's analysis even as he cast a   
mildly annoyed glance up at Dumbledore who was still hovering over him. The   
older wizard was less subtle in his congratulations to Harry for his   
perception, but Severus took that as part and parcel of being a Gryffindor.   
All too soon afterwards Severus was wishing for the end to Dumbledore's   
visit as the older wizard turned his concern upon Severus once more due to   
Harry's mentioning his loss of memory. "Enough already!" Severus frowned at   
Dumbledore. "Leave us alone and let Harry get some rest so that we can   
finally get out of-" biting back the undeserved uncomplimentary words he   
had been about to express, he finished off with, "... this place."  
  
The restraint proved itself fortuitous as Madam Pomfrey chose that moment   
to enter the ward, a knowing smirk firmly planted upon her features.   
"Perhaps I should take you on as a nurse in training, Severus. Your bedside   
manner is charming and you give such wonderfully phrased advice to both   
visitors and patients."  
  
When Severus stiffened rather than showing any sign of amusement at her   
teasing, Madam Pomfrey seemed troubled but swiftly set about enforcing   
Severus' 'request' of Dumbledore, shooing him out of the ward. When she   
didn't immediately return, Severus sighed and closed his eyes, leaning back   
into the cushions of his chair and reminding himself that Pomfrey hadn't been   
aware of the circumstances surrounding his words to Harry before his retreat   
into the washroom. It wasn't as though things like that had ever mattered to   
him at any rate; he didn't really know why Pomfrey's words gave him a shock   
of surprise and hurt and quite frankly he didn't care to know.  
  
Harry's voice quietly intruded upon his thoughts and echoed them as well.   
"She didn't mean it that way, you know."  
  
"I am aware of that," Severus murmured in reply without opening his eyes.   
"Now be quiet and get some rest lest I be forced to pour a sleeping draught   
down your throat." A pause and he added, "We shall see the test results   
from the scan in my office once we return there." 


	31. Musings and Music

A/N: I'm expecting this chapter to be rather longer than the normal ones, but that's because I want to put this little part of the plot into one part as I don't think it would be a good idea to break this particular one into parts. It has shades of a Sandman-ish concept that sort of stuck its nose into my story, but it's not a crossover; Lord Morpheus won't be making any guest appearances (unless he makes me ;). Warning! No spellcheck or formatting as I want to post this before going home tonight. I literally just finished writing at high speed!  
  
Apologies in advance as I haven't been able to find an actual name to connect to one of the cannon characters from the books. You'll see who when you read on.  
  
Thanks for reading! Disclaimers apply as always. I'm buying the 5th book tonight!  
  
Chapter 31  
  
Harry was looking forward to the time that he and Severus would be leaving the isolation ward as staring at the same four walls tended to get deadly dull even with all of the recent revalations and activities. At the same time however, also despite all of the recent emotional upheavals, Harry hadn't felt so protected and safe in a long time - if ever. The magical wards themselves weren't obvious in their tangibility, but he felt them in the same way that Ron had once described how he felt returning to his own bedroom after his first year of Hogwarts. Almost as though it was a sanctuary. The description was especially apt for Ron who had to weather the attentions of the twins and their occasional attempts at prank experimentation.  
  
Harry decided to enjoy the peace while he could and got as much sleep as possible that day. On the bunk next to him, Severus was a quiet and solid presence with his nose most often in one of the Prophecy books that the Headmaster had brought or a copy of the Daily Prophet. He couldn't help but wonder if Severus found the aura colors as fascinating and difficult to ignore as he had done. With a smile of contentment, Harry snuggled back down into the blankets to sleep more.  
  
During the night Harry woke up once to hear a sigh from the bunk next to his and the sound of the blankets rustling as Severus turned onto his side facing Harry, curling up in his sleep. In the very faint light available from moon and stars the older wizard appeared younger and less forboding, yet Harry retained the memories of the power and strength eminating from him. Somehow reassurred, Harry didn't find it difficult to fall back asleep as well. Back to the warmth and comfort ... so comfortable ... so safe ... didn't want to leave it ...  
  
* * * * *  
  
//Harry looked around, taking a deep breath of the fresh air and enjoying the feel and sound of the cool breeze rustling through the trees nearby. Stepping from the forest, he walked the outskirts of a small village that consisted more of huts than any sort of modern house or building.  
  
The distant noise of a gathering of people could be heard; talking, laughter, cheering, and more difficult to hear- singing. Deciding to follow the sounds, Harry spotted what looked to be a festival. Tents of many sizes and colors were pitched and people wove between them, browsing their wares, making purchases or just admiring the skill of the people who created them. Another area had only a couple of very large tents and a larger open area contained in a clearing of grass and the sweetness of spring flowers. A few people lounged in the area and a number of children ran around there as they played games of tag that got tangled up in each other. The whole of the scene brought a wistful smile to Harry's lips and he made his way towards the celebration.  
  
As he got closer he detected the mouth watering smells of cooking that came from the furthest tents, behind which he spied a scattering of tables and more people and their children. Altogether Harry estimated that there were around a hundred people at the festival, all wearing homespun clothing and enjoying the weather. Harry moved to join them, thankfully noticing that while he did get a few curious glances he wasn't the only stranger to the area. It seemed that most of those who set up tents were actually wandering merchants, and there were a number of others carrying musical instruments who were all heading for the clearing with the large tents. From the conversation around him, Harry learned that there was going to be a competition soon. Interested, Harry followed the crowd.  
  
It was then that he became aware of what he was wearing. At first glance it was his school robes, but as he ran one hand along the sleeve he felt that the material was a bit rougher than the ones he'd gotten from Diagon Alley in the past. Reaching the tents, Harry passed into the shade of one of them where a small stage made of wood had been set up.  
  
Out of curiosity Harry felt for his wand, letting his hand reach into his robes subtly while he continued to look around the tent. At the precise moment that his hand touched an unfamiliar wooden shape, Harry's eyes suddenly met the brown ones of Severus who was standing behind the group of silent people by the stage, each of which were holding some sort of musical instrument. Long brown hair was pulled behind him and tied off with a piece of dyed cloth, and Severus' robes were made of a similair style as Harry's. As he expressionlessly met Harry's stare, Severus' slender fingers distractedly caressed a long wooden cylinder that had been the same color as his wand- but had the appearance of a flute. Tearing his eyes away, Harry looked at his own expected wand only to find that its unfamiliar feel was due to its being some sort of wooden pennywhistle.  
  
Shaking his head in confusion, Harry looked back to Severus to share his incomprehension and was surprised to see that Severus' expression had thawed somewhat to reflect acknowledgement of Harry's presence and his own unfamiliarity with the situation. Harry approached Severus, his small pipe in hand to ward off any questions as he weaved his way through the crowd. Upon reaching him, Harry was about to whisper a question when the person apparently in charge stepped onto the stage and waved for silence.  
  
"As most of you know, this isn't just a test of how well everyone can memorize and play a song. This competition is a measure of skill - and not just your skill with your fingers." A soft wave of laughter came from the audience before he continued. "All newcomers to our competition are required to be the last to perform, and from the looks of it we have only two this year. Everyone will pair off and be measured on their performances. First each member of a pair will perform a short piece on their own, and then each pair will perform an improvised song together, alternating who takes the lead and the melody."  
  
The crowd seemed familiar and approving of the rules, anticipating the music and getting comfortable whether they were under the tent or lounging on the grass outside of it. Looking around, Harry and Severus grew uneasy as they didn't notice anyone else who seemed to be new to the festival. Severus made a subtle gesture off to one side, but although they tried to move away from the stage they just couldn't seem to.   
  
"Is this a dream I'm having?" Harry murmured.  
  
"I might ask the same thing of myself, but I can see your aura" was Severus' dry reply as his fingers absently moved over his flute with the delicacy of someone handling the most fragile of china. "Do you know how to play that thing?" he inquired with a nod at Harry's pipe.  
  
Harry peered at the thin pipe he held, positioning his fingers over the holes. "I toyed with a plastic recorder that Dudley had broken once."  
  
"How reassuring." Again Severus attempted to move away, but his step was somehow aborted and he stood still again with a sigh.  
  
"What about you?" Harry asked. "Do you know how to play that flute?"  
  
"I'm somewhat familiar with the instrument, but not to the extent that I would prefer for a performance such as this. However, if this is indeed a dream I expect that we will either prove to have the skill we don't possess in the waking life, or that something else will occur."  
  
Having settled the crowd again, the speaker on the stage continued. "We've decided to up the stakes this year." With a conspirital grin filled with the light of mischief, "Instead of letting the winning pair witness the dreams of someone from the waking world, we decided that the pair can instead become a part of the waking world!" Gasps came from the crowd, and the other musicians stirred with excited interest. "Yes, this is a chance of a lifetime- literally! Those who have become lost here can return to their bodies once again instead of waiting to fade away and become mere dreams upon the death of the body they have become separated from!"  
  
Harry and Severus shot alarmed looks at each other. "Could we be lost as well?" Harry asked with concern.  
  
"Try to wake up," Severus frowned, concentrating as he struggled to do the same.  
  
"It's no use," came a soft voice from a nearby table. They turned almost as one to frown at the man and the woman who sat across from him, but Severus' frown swiftly became an expression of shock and dismay, his face growing pale.   
  
"Frank Longbottom!" Severus exclaimed, and the man nodded. Distantly, music was heard as the first competitors took the stage.  
  
"My wife and I have been stuck here for a number of years; despite all of our efforts we haven't been able to find our way back." Sharing a mournful look with the woman he added, "We appeared in this place as newcomers as well, our memories slowly fading since then. We can barely recall what our boy Neville looked like ... and he is our strongest memory of the waking world." Applause burst out around them as a performance concluded and another began.  
  
Harry finally broke himself from the horrified stare he'd bestowed on the unfortunate couple long enough to blurt, "I know Neville; he's a friend of mine. We're in Gryffindor together."   
  
A soft exclaimation came from Neville's mother as his father gripped the edges of the table tightly. "Please," she whispered. "Please watch over my baby... tell him we love him so."  
  
Biting his lip, Harry couldn't help but fight off tears; Severus looked highly uncomfortable and remained silent as Harry nodded, but Mr. Longbottom shook his head and reached for his wife's hand to console her.  
  
"They're stuck here, too," he gently pointed out. "Unless they win the competition." With trepidation, the small group turned to regard the stage where one of the pairs had just finished their first improvisation and rested a moment before beginning the next one in reversed positions. The pair seemed quite practiced in skill and enjoyed what they did, but the two lines of notes that each played didn't always support each other as each hoped for the recognition of their separate talents.  
  
With the speed of timeless dreams Harry and Severus were called to the stage for their turn, and they slowly headed for the stage with much misgiving, their 'wands' in hand.  
  
Severus went first with a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder as he stepped forward. Lifting his flute to his lips, he blew gently into the holes and ran his fingers across the other ones to test out the instrument. A solemn and mournful sound emerged from the instrument, suprising him at first before he settled into a song to match the quality of sadness in the flute's sound. As Severus let the song drift into silence he received polite but loud applause to which he nodded acknowledgement before returning to Harry. "Trust in your instincts," Severus muttered quietly. "Think of a song you know and like the tune to and it will come."  
  
Harry nodded with great relief, clutching his pipe as he hesitantly ventured out onto the stage. Positioning his fingers over the holes, Harry found that in contrast with Severus' flute, his pipe had the sounds of cheerful curiosity along the higher notes and a wistful sadness at the lower range. Deciding to follow in Severus' footsteps, he kept mostly towards the lower range of notes, picking out an older song he'd heard one of the years he'd stayed at Hogwarts over Christmas; it had matched his mood at the time and the melody was poignant even if it sounded better with accompaniment. His performance was also greeted with a polite but warm reward of applause.  
  
Severus stepped forward then to join Harry for their first improvisation. Still feeling a little nervous, Harry indicated wordlessly that Severus should lead the melody first to which Severus nodded in reply. Standing at slight angles to each other so that they could easily watch the other and be visible to the audience, they began.  
  
At first the melody Severus chose was a simple one but one with potential to be build upon which Harry learned quickly. With the flexibility of someone who found ways to use spells and resources under pressure, Harry built a base line that ran a cheerful parallel to the melody and occasionally broke off to pipe out synchopated notes to keep up the pace and garner enthusiasm from the crowd. Severus caused the melody to evolve into something more complicated, building variations and then venturing off the newly worn path for the passing of several bars before bringing the original melody line back for brief visits.  
  
When the time came for their positions to be switched, Severus and Harry briefly slowed the song, nodding the time as one bar ended- and as the next began, Harry took up Severus' melody line but altered it into something of its own. Quietly under him, Severus ran Harry's parallel base line before breaking off into a counter melody that supported and matched Harry's tune and mood, pushing forth an enthusiastic and sweet sound rather than a cheerful one.  
  
Harry felt himself almost lifted as he piped his melody, the darker presence of Severus reassuringly at his side and providing impetus to his thoughts, his inspiration. He tackled a short series of notes Severus had played and melodically danced with it. Repeating the notes in theme and variation, Harry gleefully displayed the snippet that he 'stole' from the older wizard as though it were a trophy while Severus' gaze laughed from behind his flute, his mouth hidden as he continued to play. Chuckles were heard from the audience at Harry's antics.  
  
As though to beat the young upstart at his own game, Severus stole one of Harry's original additions to the melody and pointedly analyzed it by repeating it and then altering it with subtle emphasis on certain of the altered notes as though to say 'this is what you should have done, idiot'. Harry stubbornly returned to his original line, unaltered by the advice of the 'older and wiser' player.  
  
Finally themes and variations met, clashed briefly and with purpose before they came into harmony with each other, winding down as though from a long and spiraling broom flight until they gently floated over the ground for a deliberate landing in their closing cadence.  
  
The audience burst out into roaring applause.//  
  
Harry and Severus suddenly woke up, startled into wordlessness as they looked around the hospital wing.  
  
---------------------  
  
A/N2: Erm. I was planing a plot like that, but it ran away with me anyway. Hope you liked it as it wasn't my usual style...  
  
Here are the songs I had in mind for the solo songs they played although I'm not sure about the title for Harry's:  
  
Severus: Flow my tears (I believe it's by John Dowland)  
Harry: Coventry Carol by Mckennitt Loreena 


	32. Debates and Discipline

A/N: Woo! Book 5 is Veeeery Iiiiinteresting. And this story is now blatantly   
AU. ;)  
  
I'm contemplating starting a Live Journal for the purpose of keeping my   
temptation to talk about things regarding each chapter from padding the story   
and word count too much. This way I could give brief A/Ns and direct people to   
the LJ to get the gritty details if they are so inclined (which I hope many   
people might be).  
  
I'll still be continuing the story despite the AUness of it. I've got another   
two story ideas in mind that I'd like a stab at, but I would prefer writing one   
long story at a time. I might write up the shorter one after looking up a few   
things; maybe a few weeks. (evil cackle here)  
  
Thanks as always for reading and reviewing! Disclaimers still apply. I was #49   
on line at Borders to get my copy of Book 5.  
  
-----------------------------  
  
Chapter 32  
  
Meeting Severus' dark brown gaze, Harry exchange looks of uncertain incredulity   
with him before deciding to throw caution to the wind. He sat up and faced   
Severus' bunk from where he was still warmed by his covers. "Did you just have   
the strangest dream about a festival?"  
  
Severus' eyes widened as he nodded. Both wizards looked at the tabletop where   
Harry's perfectly normal shaped wand rested. Smoothly reaching under his   
pillow, Severus produced his own for inspection, making a small gesture with it   
and producing a couple of green sparks. "It doesn't seem to have affected the   
wands. You dreamt of a competition?"  
  
Harry nodded quickly to reassure and encourage Severus that he wasn't going   
insane. "And we found... Neville's parents. What are we going to do about that?   
Is there a way to free them?"  
  
"Have we any idea how we found them in the first place? Where that festival was   
located and how to get there?" The words Severus spoke contained a pointed tone   
that Harry had learned often hid other emotions such as frustration or a sense   
of self-loathing. "If that place is indeed real and we went there again, do you   
think we would be so lucky as to run into another means of getting out of there   
again- along with the Longbottoms?"  
  
Biting his lower lip, Harry lowered his eyes, feeling them tear up as they had   
done within the dream. "Whatever are we going to tell Neville?" he whispered.  
  
Moments passed as Severus pressed his lips together and scowled. "Do you   
imagine the boy would take such words easily- especially if I were present? He   
likely either wouldn't believe you, or would be desperate to fetch back his   
parents and tormented at the lack of possibilities of doing so."  
  
"Possibly," Harry replied, still upset, "But we can't keep it from him. His   
mother's request..." When Severus seemed about to counter Harry's words again   
he held up a hand. "If she and Neville's father are doomed to stay as they are,   
we have to follow her last request- to let Neville know how much they love him,   
and to watch over him."  
  
Severus grimaced, but the expression didn't seem to be one of disgust; more of   
one when faced with a very difficult task. Shaking his head, he murmured,   
"Before he is told, there must be confirmation that this place is indeed real   
and not just a product of whatever linked dream we both had."  
  
"Great," Harry replied determinedly. "If we figure out that it's real, we'll   
give Neville all of the information we've found as well. Maybe he can use it in   
his own research for something to help his parents."  
  
Harry's statement was met by a glare. "I don't like the idea of setting Mr.   
Longbottom on a path that may lead him into great danger. It is likely he would   
be overeager to find and speak to them, either not considering the consequences   
of finding a way back or going even despite that as Gryffindors are sometimes   
prone to do."  
  
"It's his choice to make," Harry insisted. "If it were me, I would want to know   
about my parents. I /do/ want to know all I can about my parents," Harry added,   
suddenly searching Severus' eyes.  
  
Turning away from the inquisitive gaze and quickly returning to the previous   
subject in order to avoid the one of Harry's parents, Severus frowned. "Yes the   
choice will be his- when he is of age. In the meantime any choice he makes will   
likely be made with a lack of consideration. He is under the guardianship of   
his grandmother, and of the faculty when he attends the school. This /does/   
imply that he will not be handed the tools of his destruction while under our   
watch," he added with a touch of sarcasm.  
  
Thoughts came and went at a furious rate for Harry; perhaps doing all of the   
research and giving Neville the lot as a birthday present when he came of age   
would work? Would Neville be furious? Could they perhaps tell Neville's   
grandmother and she could take action? She sounded formidable from Neville's   
descriptions. Did this mean that information was being kept from Harry about   
his own parents until he came of age?  
  
Harry was about to open his mouth to ask the last question when Madame Pomfrey   
briskly entered the room. "Time for you two to get up and get ready to spend   
some time in the main room outside the wards. Minerva is going to visit for a   
while," she smiled at Severus.  
  
"Joy," Severus replied dryly as he got up. "As I can get ready without   
assistance I'll shower first; you won't be using the washroom outside this   
time, Mr. Potter." Surprisingly the formality of the name 'Mr. Potter' didn't   
sound so harsh as the times in previous years when Severus was 'Professor   
Snape'... instead it was another feeling of reassurance. By the time Harry had   
ventured off his bed to collect his clothes from Madam Pomfrey, Severus had   
done the same and swept into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him.   
While he heard the sounds of the shower running, Harry realized that he had   
rarely seen Severus and Professor McGonnagall together outside their   
Professorial duties and sitting at the Head Table. He passed the short time it   
took by wondering how well the two Heads of House got along. Harry still hadn't   
come up with a definite opinion by the time Severus finished and emerged from   
the washroom dressed in his customary black robes, so he grabbed up his own   
towel and went to bury himself in the fall of warm water for a while, even if   
it could only be a short one.  
  
Emerging afterwards, feeling somewhat refreshed if still intensely curious,   
Harry was ready and willing to watch the two like a hawk. Or a Gryffindor lion,   
Harry smirked to himself.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Something amusing?" Severus questioned from the window where he had been   
attempting meditation while gazing out at the Hogwarts grounds, instead feeling   
a restless impatience for Harry to finish so they could see just how powerful   
their mutual protections were. Harry was smirking faintly and his aura was   
practically lit from within with that mild amusement and a much stronger   
curiosity.  
  
Harry grimaced to get the smile off of his face before making an attempt at   
controlling the amusement that still shone in the colors that surrounded him.   
"No, sir," he replied with a serious tone of voice more akin to the ones he'd   
used when Severus had been leaning over one of Harry's many spectacular potions   
failures in the classroom. Interesting that. A veritable imp.  
  
"You do realize that at this point in time it is fruitless to make the pretense   
of being serious when you are not," Severus ground out in something approaching   
classroom tones of his own.  
  
Pausing in thought briefly, Harry questioned with a grin, "Erm. Call it just   
trying to be polite, then?"  
  
"If you must," Severus sighed as he shook his head and started to turn towards   
the door. "Let us proceed then."  
  
"Yes, please do," came Minerva's Scottish burr from the door to the main   
Hospital ward. Her own voice contained warm overtones of amusement as she   
opened the door wider in preparation to let the two wizards emerge from the   
isolation ward. "You're looking much better Severus, Harry." As they approached   
her, she grew much more serious and stern; her customary expression. "Albus has   
kept me informed of all that has come to pass. Perhaps this first time that you   
come out, you should keep in contact."  
  
Severus grimaced but internally agreed with the idea, so he reached out and   
settled one hand firmly upon Harry's shoulder who looked up at him, startled as   
though for a moment he had heard the inevitable knell of doom. Pleased that his   
long years of work on his manner and reputation hadn't been completely lost to   
Harry despite the influence of the new powers, Severus carefully guided Harry   
past Minerva and out into the main ward. 


	33. Banter and Betrayal

A/N: Life continues to keep me busy, but keeping the chapters this   
length allows me to keep posting every week. I'm of the hope that   
everyone is doing well...  
  
Disclaimers apply as always. Thanks for reading; reviews are   
enormously appreciated, be they long or short.  
  
----------------------  
  
Chapter 33  
  
With a resigned sigh, Severus left his right hand firmly upon Harry's   
left shoulder as they moved past the threshold of the wards   
surrounding the Hospital's isolation wing. He ignored Minerva as he   
felt her gaze heavily upon Harry and himself, partially to reassure her   
that all was normal... but mostly to irritate her as was their   
long-standing tradition.  
  
A moment's pressure to Harry's shoulder and Severus brought them   
both to a halt before he released Harry and let his hand fall to his   
side. When nothing spectacular or dreadful came to pass at the loss   
of contact, he led the way to a pair of bunks already set up for them   
along with a chair nearby for Minerva. A soft growl and a pointed   
finger at the bunk, and Harry gave in to recline on the bunk rather   
than just sitting on the edge as Severus did. Harry knew as well as   
Severus did just how tired Harry was; the aura was telling in the   
leftover signs from the physical and emotional trauma.  
  
"So, Minerva," Severus began with a smile which was artfully large   
enough for Minerva to know that their unspoken tradition was to be   
maintained, "How can we best entertain you?"  
  
"Professor!" exclaimed Harry in shock, his formality with Severus also   
showing where he stood with his own Head of House: not   
comfortable enough with her to be at ease with the use of Severus'   
first name in her presence.  
  
"Oh, that's quite all right, Mr. Potter," Minerva waved off the   
question. "I'm quite used to Severus' bristly nature... One might   
wonder if there wasn't a porcupine somewhere in his ancestry." And   
so the battle was joined.  
  
Shaking his head, Severus smirked, "Your particular skill at self   
transformation explains to the observant why you are so fond of   
using rodents as transfiguration victims in your classes."  
  
"And your own use of them as potions ingredients is less   
permanent?" Minerva shot back, seemingly irate.  
  
"At least it is more useful," Severus sneered in return. "I'm not in the   
habit of drinking out of goblets still lined with fur.  
  
With a gentler smile as she glanced at Harry, her murmur was just as   
fast as the badinage between her and Severus, "Speaking of which.   
Would you like some tea, Harry? The Headmaster had a tin of   
shortbread biscuits sent from Hogsmeade." When Harry nodded,   
eager for something to occupy his hands with during the unexpected   
display between his professors, Minerva's wand gestured gracefully   
as she summoned forth a table bearing a tea set and the promised   
biscuits. The transfiguration professor neatly poured out two cups   
and brought one over to Harry, making certain the boy could handle   
the cup without issue and making a pleasant fuss over doling out   
enough sugar and cream.  
  
When she returned to the table and took up the second cup for   
herself, Severus let himself show the faintest of pouts. A battle was   
so much less fun without a proper amount of fuel. "You didn't pour   
me a cup," was his game observation, smirk firmly hidden.  
  
"You don't like my furry cups, remember?" Taking a dainty sip of the   
faintly steaming tea, she settled the cup back on the saucer with all   
the poise of a noble partaking the drink with royalty.  
  
Potter snickered and tried hiding the expression behind his own cup,   
still a fruitless endeavor as the amusement blazed forth in his aura.   
Still, Severus couldn't very well let that pass without punishment.   
Timing, he considered, was everything.  
  
As Harry took another sip from his tea, Severus promptly sniped,   
"Your tea is likely akin to my rat-infested potions at any rate." With   
vindictive enjoyment, Severus ignored Harry's spewing of his tea onto   
the coverlet, "I could ask Trelawney to give you some pointers if you   
like."  
  
Minerva grimaced with as much dignity as the expression allowed for.   
"Quite unnecessary, thank you Severus." While Harry finished   
regaining his composure Minerva cast a cleaning and drying spell   
upon Harry's covers, removing all trace of the tea stains. Task   
completed, she at last relented and poured tea into the third cup and   
held it out to Severus, witholding the additives as he preferred.  
  
Severus' smile wasn't warm, but it did acknowledge the long history   
between the two of them- both when he was student and then   
teacher.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Harry's expectations hadn't been so advanced as to imagine the   
current scene playing out before him; it had both surprised him and   
put him more at ease. At first the argument seemed to be just that-   
an argument. But the subject matter was so basic that it couldn't   
have been gone over many a time in the past, and the mannerisms   
of the two adults hadn't contained any real anger. He'd seen them   
both angry before. Especially Severus, he thought with a grin.  
  
But when Professor McGonnagal finally gave Severus a cup of tea as   
well (he thoughtfully noticed that nothing was added), it seemed   
that the banter was over for the moment as the two settled into   
their respective seats to sip in silence. Silence wasn't a bad thing,   
Harry decided, not when it was a comfortable one shared by others   
rather than one from boredom or embarrassment.  
  
At long last, Severus set his cup down on the table between their   
bunks and murmured, "So then. Albus has explained everything to   
you?"  
  
"As much as he was able to," McGonnagal murmured from over her   
cup, and for a moment there was an expression difficult to define,   
especially without the benefit of a visible aura and the observations   
he'd had of Severus since their reunion this summer.  
  
"In other words, not very much," was Severus' wry rejoinder.  
  
Shaking her head, McGonnagal gently lowered her teacup. "Oh, he   
detailed the events he knew of and likely all that you have told him."   
Her tone of voice was soothing yet factual enough to make it clear   
that she wasn't trying to coddle Severus. A wise move on her part,   
Harry knew. "He just didn't go into the rationalization behind it. He   
never did, beyond the very basic." Her last words seemed very   
reluctantly spoken, and Severus caught on them immediately with a   
furrowed brow.  
  
"He never did? How long have you known about this, Minerva?" Her   
first name was still used, but Severus' voice had a touch of wariness   
to it now.  
  
If McGonnagal had been younger, hadn't the experience of a Deputy   
Headmistress, hadn't shepherded thousands of children through   
lifetime experiences both frightening and wonderful, she might have   
hesitated before speaking. "The Headmaster made me aware of this   
the night we got you back from them in your sixth year, Severus. It   
was then that he discovered what they were doing to you. That you   
were being conditioned and could not be aware of all of your actions.   
You needed to be watched over, and he needed the help of someone   
that he trusted to do so."  
  
Severus' expression had been growing increasingly blank; a sure sign   
of a harsh reign on his temper. His voice was disquietingly soft as   
well. "And so you agreed with the actions he took? You agreed to   
help him put in his own conditioning?"  
  
"No," McGonnagal firmly and unhesitatingly denied. "I felt that such   
an action put us on the level of Tom Riddle as he was known back   
then."  
  
Harry blinked, then wiped at his eyes as they seemed to unfocus   
slightly behind his glasses; something was odd. He looked over at   
Severus and was then able to figure it out. He was starting to see   
Severus' aura again- and it wasn't a pleasant or happy one as   
Severus started to curl in on himself, drawing his knees up to his   
chest and wrapping his arms around them. The voice began to match   
the aura as well, containing harsh tones of betrayal and anger.  
  
"Still you allowed him to do so; a silent accomplice ... I remember it   
now- as I lay helpless here in the infirmary ... Dumbledore's speaking   
words over me that bore a striking similairity to the ones that Riddle   
did ... they tore through my mind ... trying to make me into what I   
am not."  
  
McGonnagal remained firm in her words although she displayed a   
similar regret as Dumbledore had done. "It was for your protection,   
Severus. Had the Headmaster not taken steps to counter Riddle's   
moves-"  
  
"Quite," Severus interrupted. "And so I was a chess game- or better   
yet- a tug of war. I certainly wasn't a student near to his majority   
who should be made aware of the situation so that he could make   
his own choices."  
  
"You were under the influence of Lucius Malfoy and his cadre,   
Severus. We were learning that this involved more than the fate of   
an individual or even a group of Slytherin students," McGonnagal   
insisted. "If we had not taken action, we would have been more than   
negligent of our students' welfare. We would have been putting our   
future in peril as we have come to see. Especially now that Harry is   
involved as well, this shows us how vital your abilities are to   
Voldemort's defeat."  
  
Silence reigned for several moments before Severus quietly replied, "I   
can nevertheless not help but wonder ... if any of my choices - to   
take the Dark Mark, or to spy on Voldemort - were in fact my own." 


	34. Thoughts and Temper

A/N: Um. Bad Snape! Stop running amok with my plot! How do you ever   
expect me to finish this story for heavens sake??  
  
Live Journal for further thoughts from the author should anyone be   
interested: http://www.livejournal.com/users/athenakt - For extra  
motivation I'm going to try and make it a habit to give a sneak peek  
at next week's chapter in the form of a statement or two on my LJ...  
  
Disclaimers apply. Heartfelt thanks for reading and reviewing!  
  
----------------------  
  
Chapter 34  
  
Harry felt his face go pale with shock and worry at Severus' solemn   
words, made all the more worse at the sincerity of the confusion and   
uncertainty in his aura. He didn't know what he could possibly do or   
say to make it better, and the colors pulled at him, distressing him   
even as McGonnagal kept her own voice quiet yet unyielding.  
  
"What Albus did was meant only to counter the worst of Riddle's   
efforts. He took no steps to program you or to make you believe   
anything that you would not on your own."  
  
"So you say," Severus replied without looking up from the hands he had   
folded on his lap. "Perhaps I'll believe you- but right now I just want   
to think this over. Please leave, Minerva."  
  
"Not until you have heard our story and take our views into   
consideration, Severus." Insistent through she was, McGonnagal looked   
less concerned for the story than she was for Severus himself. Harry   
was warmed somewhat at that evidence, but couldn't help but shiver with   
unease.  
  
Apparently Severus was able to discern McGonnagal's motivations as well   
when he glanced at her very briefly. With a sigh, he quietly murmured,   
"I'll listen- and I'll likely believe as well. I always have, knowing   
what side of the war is doing the most wrong. Just ... let me be for   
the moment."  
  
The words took Harry aback. The most wrong? Granted that nobody is   
perfect, but ... just how much wrong did Severus believe the side of   
the Light was doing? And why?  
  
Taking stock of Severus' reactions, McGonnagal relented after some   
moments. "Very well. We'll talk again tomorrow after lunch. I believe   
Poppy mentioned that you're being released to your rooms this evening,   
and Mr. Potter can use the interim to get settled into his rooms as   
well."  
  
Severus nodded rather distractedly, studying his hands once more. Harry   
felt a sudden stronger empathy for the man that didn't originate from   
their shared powers, and he nodded to Professor McGonnagal with what he   
hoped looked to be reassurance. McGonnagal nodded in return and   
murmured, "Good day, gentlemen," before passing through the door and   
quietly closing it behind her.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The silence that followed wasn't exactly a peaceful one, but neither   
was it discomforting. The boy remained in his bed, resting as he   
should, while Severus ... well, he used what time was given to him to   
sort out his own thoughts.  
  
Self-hatred and guilt was a potent distracter from the occasional bout   
of paranoia, but when the paranoia is further proven to have good   
reason ... Severus shook his head to himself and restlessly   
straightened his posture even further than it was- if that was at all   
possible. It wouldn't do to start the vicious cycle without having the   
facts on hand, and that was scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. With cold   
objectivity, Severus set those thoughts aside in favor of the project   
he had already set for himself. Analysis.  
  
Severus knew of the sincere regret that Albus and Minerva felt at what   
was done to him as a teenager; he was remembering that with increasing   
clarity now that Minerva's words brought that dream-vision back to   
light. He knew that what they did was most likely one of only a few   
things they could not forgive themselves for whilst he himself had a   
much longer list of unforgivable offenses. He knew that despite the   
offense against him, that their actions were in fact to protect him   
and, more importantly, to protect the wizarding world in general. He   
knew that once he put the facts they gave him together with the   
analysis from the rune scanner in his rooms he would agree with them.  
  
So why then did he feel so hurt?  
  
If anyone were to do something to him, he trusted Albus and Minerva to   
look out for the best interests of all, keeping everyone as safe as   
they could and planning for the future. They would make certain,   
through him, that Voldemort and the Death Eaters couldn't get out of   
hand...  
  
"But what about you, Severus?"  
  
Blinking in startlement, Severus looked over at Harry who was gazing at   
him with concern and sadness. Mortified, Severus realized he must have   
been muttering some of his thoughts aloud. Swiftly, he hid his   
embarrassment behind a scowl, lapsing into formality in his irritation.   
"What do you mean, Potter?"  
  
"They're looking out for everyone, you said. Making sure that everyone   
is safe. Making certain that Voldemort doesn't get out of hand. What   
about you?" Harry asked, his youthful voice solemn.  
  
"That was the purpose of what they did, Potter," Severus growled. "To   
make sure I didn't get out of hand, either."  
  
"That's not what I meant," Harry exclaimed with frustration. "I meant   
what about your safety? Your feelings? What about looking out for you?"   
The boy sat up a little, his features marked by his earnest belief in   
his words, growing hesitant before continuing on. "I know what that's   
like, Severus. Everyone expects me to be the savior of the wizarding   
world and ... well ... they keep forgetting that I'm not even an adult   
yet."  
  
Severus felt no compunction to shelter the boy from his bitterness as   
he replied, "I am one, Potter, or have you forgotten in the face of   
recent events? Your greasy git of a Potions Master. The bastard."  
  
"You weren't always that way, and this started for you when you were   
still in school as well."  
  
A dark smirk crossed Severus' features, "So you don't deny that I'm a   
bastard?"  
  
Harry actually growled, "That's not the point. You may have been a git-   
you may even decide to continue to be a git come the next school year,"   
the boy briefly shuddered. "But it doesn't mean that you shouldn't have   
been looked after back then, or that you shouldn't be cared for now."  
  
Severus felt the stirrings of his temper building swiftly past   
irritation as it traveled the well-worn paths of rage. Sometimes in   
past he'd wondered at the quickness of his temper when he had   
customarily succeeded at displaying a veneer of coldness as his   
preference, but he'd dismissed the thoughts soon after when the show of   
temper brought his points across well enough. Looking at the boy, he   
decided that in Potter's case both fire and ice worked to Severus'   
advantage, especially when the younger wizard was able to discern his   
aura. For instance, at the moment Potter was growing increasingly pale   
and still. Deciding to show a twisted sense of mercy, Severus finally   
spoke, keeping his voice under careful control and enunciating each   
syllable with deadly accuracy. "Are you appointing yourself my   
caretaker- whether I ask for it or not? Do you imagine that I desire   
one? Perhaps I'm just misunderstood, a heart of gold buried under years   
of torment? Frankly, I couldn't care less, and I would advise that you   
don't bring up the subject again."  
  
Thankfully the boy lapsed into a hurt silence, contemplating his bed   
covers before he eventually settled down for a nap until lunch came.   
The meal passed in an equal amount of quiet apart from Poppy's fussing   
and expert treatment. Finally towards evening she bustled about,   
collecting their things in preparation for their upcoming release from   
the Hospital Wing.  
  
Discerning that Potter didn't want to chance his temper again, Severus   
was the one to break the silence. "Very well, boy. It's time to show   
you to your rooms."  
  
Quietly Potter slipped out of his bed, padding slowly over to claim his   
share of what they had managed to accumulate for clothes under Poppy's   
care, shouldering the bag. Just as quietly, he looked up at Severus,   
"I'm not a boy." 


	35. Abodes and Auras

A/N: I'm of the hopes that everyone is enjoying the story. I'll be   
picking up the pace from time to time and skipping over small bits of   
dialogue rather than repeating myself (or making Harry and/or Severus   
repeat themselves)  
  
The title of this chapter was done on purpose. It just fit. Let's see   
who can catch what I'm referring to. :)  
  
Live Journal: http://www.livejournal.com/users/athenakt - posters are   
welcome to do so if they wish!  
  
Disclaimers apply as always. Thank you for reading and the thoughtful   
comments I've received!  
  
--------------------  
  
Chapter 35  
  
Severus felt one eyebrow climbing the heights of his forehead. "Not a   
boy, are you? Yet you earlier proclaimed that you are not yet an   
adult. So then, what exactly are you?"  
  
"That's just the question, isn't it?" was Harry's bitter rejoinder.   
"I'm not quite sure, and from the looks of it, neither is anyone else.   
One minute I'm gazed at with awe, and the next they're patting me on   
the head like I'm some four year old who's gone and done something he   
thinks is clever."  
  
"Do you really want me to respond to that statement?" Severus queried,   
hiding his amusement before he briskly turned and led the way to the   
doors out of the Hospital Wing.  
  
Grumbling under his breath, Harry adjusted the strap to the bag he was   
given and followed Severus into the school proper.  
  
Hogwarts was just as Severus remembered in his previous years, only   
with a strange emptiness to it. The castle felt more calm than   
desolate, however, containing a life of its own within the ancient   
stones that could just barely be sensed now that the chaos of student   
life was absent. It was times like these during the summer that   
Severus felt most at peace- an obvious statement given the lack of the   
school year stress, but this was different. He reached out a hand to   
momentarily brush at a section of the stone wall with his fingertips   
as he walked.   
  
There was a sense of belonging, of protecting and being protected that   
spoke of the strength of the stones around them, and the wards that he   
and the other professors maintained. With a quiet sigh, he led Harry   
further into the dungeons and the rooms there.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Harry found himself passing the time on the walk observing Severus'   
aura which was calming at a surprising rate towards what he would   
almost call a meditative state. He took a moment to thank the powers   
that be for that favor as it meant he wouldn't have to deal with a   
cranky Severus when they reached their destination. Perhaps if he was   
careful and didn't push him the wrong way he'd be able to get some   
more information from him.   
  
There was a moment's surprise when Harry realized he actually had come   
to enjoy his conversations with Severus when they weren't in the midst   
of an argument or couched in sarcasm. He smirked- if he knew last year   
what he knew now ... the smirk abruptly faded as Cedric haunted his   
thoughts again and he focused his attention upon the black shrouded   
man before him.  
  
The peace in Severus' aura increased suddenly as the man reached out   
and briefly brushed his fingers along the wall as he walked before the   
hand was withdrawn into his flowing robes once more. Curious though he   
was, Harry decided this wasn't something he was going to question as   
the sight of the aura like that calmed him as well.  
  
Having passed the Potions classroom and Severus' office a couple of   
hallways ago, Harry knew Severus' chambers were nearby. Wondering what   
the results of the scan Severus had run were, Harry jumped a little as   
Severus spoke up, almost seeming to read his mind.  
  
"Your rooms are across the hall from mine, but before I show you to   
them I want you to enter the scanner with me again so that I might run   
another scan and compare the two."  
  
Harry was quick to nod even though Severus was still turned away from   
him, walking before him like a shadow in the torch-lit dungeons.   
Curious to get a better look at Severus' chambers now that he was more   
comfortable with the man, Harry made note to take a look at the sparse   
area of shelves that had contained momentoes rather than books.  
  
Severus smoothly made his way over to the hidden door once they passed   
into his chambers, already starting to disassemble his wards as though   
he, too, was eager for the scan's results. Not entirely surprising,   
Harry thought; I bet he's always been as much of a bookworm as   
Hermione, absorbing knowledge for knowledge's sake. Reminded of his   
friends once again, Harry found himself growing eager to see them   
again ... but wondered just how much of his summertime adventures he   
could or should share with them and - oh - and Sirius. He could just   
imagine the blowout that was in the works for them. Sirius was going   
to have a cow over this ...  
  
When Harry approached on the way into the unlocked rune room, Severus   
looked at him oddly - no doubt due to the quiet mooing noises Harry   
was making, interspersed with equally quiet (but no less on the edge   
of hysteria) giggles.  
  
In his best classroom voice, Severus archly inquired, "Mr. Potter.   
What on earth are you making those sounds for?" Harry made short work   
of explaining his sudden revelation and received a dark snort in   
response. "Black will deal with it in his customary manner," Severus   
sneered, "In which case I might ask that you be on hand to heal me   
later - or to cart your Godmutt to the vet."  
  
Harry felt the Slytherin in him pressing his lips together to keep his   
protests about Sirius unvoiced in favor of carefully studying Severus'   
aura. Little shockwaves of hatred were dancing their way around   
Severus' head, shoulders and neck as though causing tension pains, not   
hard to believe considering his dark expression and clenched jaw at   
the moment. At the same time, there was also a darker haze hovering   
just over his heart, difficult to see against the blackness of his   
robes before Severus whirled around to not-quite stalk into the hidden   
room and shutting the door behind them both. With a sigh, Harry   
realized he'd missed his opportunity to get a look at the pictures on   
Severus' shelves. He resolved to try again on the way out.  
  
It was soon afterwards that Harry saw something he hadn't noticed   
before; seeing the tinge of darkness against Severus' black robes just   
a moment previously had brought this new part of Severus' aura into   
focus. Before Severus could move further and spoil Harry's view, Harry   
cried, "Whoa!"   
  
Out of pure incredulity, Severus came to a halt and stared at his   
student. "Have we gone from cows to horses now?"  
  
Holding up one hand in a request for stillness and silence, Harry   
managed to utter, "Sorry," but continued to stare at Severus left arm.   
Several moments passed before he started to slowly approach Severus as   
though the older wizard was an untamed animal. "Um, there's something   
there," Harry offered in an attempt at explanation.  
  
Likely knowing that Harry meant more than that, Severus nevertheless   
gave Harry his patented Sneer-smirk. "Yes. It is frequently referred   
to as my arm."  
  
With a martyred sigh, Harry continued to stare at it. "Could you raise   
your left arm up just a moment? And ... erm ..." He stuttered to a   
halt, not sure how Severus would react to his next request, but   
fervently wishing for a few moments that he wasn't in a sealed room   
with him.  
  
"Spit it out, Potter," came Severus annoyed tones.   
  
"Could you ... roll up your sleeve?" 


	36. Deduction and Derailings

A/N: I loved some of my reviews this time around; I'm always thrilled to   
hear from you, whether it's someone just letting me know you're still   
with me, or giving an amusing comment or two.  
  
Live Journal's still there. I believe it allows anonymous posting if you   
want to leave a comment ... It's my intention to leave a tempting look   
into the next chapter there...  
http://www.livejournal.com/users/athenakt  
  
Disclaimers apply as always. Thanks for coming for the ride!  
  
-----------------------  
  
Chapter 36  
  
There was an understandable pause in the conversation at this point,   
during which Severus spent a good minute staring at the unfortunate boy   
before him. Harry was thinking of himself as unfortunate during this   
particular period of time mostly due to the indescribable expression- or   
lack thereof- on Severus' features. It wasn't so much a lacking of   
expression that was so frightening, but rather the sheer nothingness to   
it. Even his aura had gone still as though frozen in a moment of time.   
It brought to mind the phrase of 'the calm before the storm', or perhaps   
more appropriately, 'the calm before the megaton explosion fated to   
level a city block'.  
  
But Harry wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. Holding bravery and defiance   
before him as a shield, Harry met and headed off Severus' reaction with   
his not so carefully thought of but unarguably true observation. "If   
we're going to get anywhere together without killing each other first,   
there is a certain amount of faith that will need to be extended.   
There's something in your aura that I think has to do with the Dark Mark   
and I can't see it clearly against the blackness of your robes." Out of   
some sense of self-preservation he added, "Please. I realize this must   
be difficult for you ... but we really should be aware of anything which   
might be a problem for us."  
  
The expressionless stare was maintained, but Severus moved to unfasten   
the cuffs to his robes and the shirtsleeve underneath with deliberately   
efficient motions before drawing the cloth away from his left forearm.   
Discomfort shifted around him, causing Harry to shift with a similar   
emotion in turn as he bent to study what he had caught a fleeting   
glimpse of; a dark swirl that hovered just over the skull and snake of   
the Dark Mark.  
  
Harry frowned at it, feeling his brows draw down into an expression that   
just might be similar to some of Severus' past scowls. "What the heck?"   
he muttered, stepping within touching range for a better look.  
  
"Language, Potter," Severus' tone of voice was controlled ... removed as   
though distancing himself from the proceedings apart from his   
admonishment.  
  
With a sigh, Harry fell silent in order to concentrate more fully. It   
probably shouldn't be unexpected to either of them as they had both   
experienced Voldemort's connection to Severus firsthand, but to see   
evidence of it was still startling. The funnel-like swirl moved slowly   
around itself, a filament of which was connected to the Dark Mark at the   
bottom of the funnel, barely perceivable. Surrounding the funnel,   
Severus' aura was interrupted, the colors faded to pale as though   
absorbed by the darkness that was now contrasted against the pale skin   
of Severus' arm.  
  
"Well?" Severus' impatient question caused Harry to jump and then to   
look up at him a little guiltily when Harry realized how the older   
wizard must have felt, confirmed by his aura.  
  
"Sorry," Harry tried for a sheepish smile before explaining what he had   
found, trying to couch it in terms that were impersonal. "There's a sort   
of small black funnel hovering just over the Mark and touching it at the   
bottom. It's moving, but slowly. I think it must be at least part of how   
Voldemort is able to ... do things."  
  
Showing his low opinion of Harry's choice of words, Severus' tone   
contained the delicate touch of his most expertly manipulated sarcasm,   
"'Do things'. I see. Are you quite done with your examination?" Quickly   
Harry nodded and stepped back, returning Severus his desired personal   
space. Displeasure expressed, Severus pivoted and stalked over to the   
far side of the room where Harry assumed the readout was waiting for   
them, all the while securing the armor of clothing around his arm.  
  
Harry followed Severus across the room at a somewhat slower pace,   
watching as Severus retrieved a rolled up and rather long sheet of   
parchment, set it on a nearby table and held a quill over it before   
muttering a few words. Around them, Harry heard the humming of the room   
become quietly audible as Severus let go of the quill which began to   
write on its own upon the slowly unfurling scroll.  
  
When Severus moved away to another corner to sit in a chair and take up   
a book that had been resting upon it, Harry indulged his curiosity and   
went over to the parchment and quill to see what it was writing. With a   
small amount of disappointment, Harry saw that most of what was being   
recorded wasn't in English but rather was a mixture of symbols and some   
Latin as well. Harry remembered seeing similar symbols on some of   
Hermione's homework when he and Ron studied or worked with her in the   
Common Room. "Is this Arithmancy?" he asked.  
  
Severus glanced up from his book, the distantly stiff expression fading   
into one of mild surprise. "It is based upon Arithmancy among other   
disciplines and rituals. You recognized a rune?"  
  
Harry admitted to comparing them to things he'd seen from Hermione.   
Peering back at the parchment he asked, "Can you read this mess?"  
  
Shaking his head with a puzzled flicker within his aura, Severus   
smirked, "It wouldn't do me much good if I could not. Advanced potions   
work requires some familiarity with Arithmancy as there is much use for   
it in the field of research. Some of the more unstable materials can be   
tested for potential without chancing the explosions. Therefore the   
occasional rune that comes through the readout isn't difficult to   
parse."  
  
"The occasional rune?" Harry incredulously asked. "This is mostly runes-   
or in a symbol language I've not seen before."  
  
Severus got up and approached, frown renewed, and inspected the   
parchment from over Harry's shoulder. "I should have expected this," he   
muttered irritably. "I'll be able to decipher some of this, but there   
seem to be a number of complex variables to our little situation. I may   
have to consult with Professor Vector when she returns for the next   
school year." The irritation in his aura mingled with and was taken over   
by his determination. "We will have complete information on hand when I   
do so. First the two of us will undergo a second scan together, then we   
will take another separately; it is likely there will be further   
information to be found with that method. Perhaps even a third scan   
individually with the other person not in the room nearby. Yes," he   
decided. "Very well. Once the write up is finished we can start the next   
scan." Despite his monologue, Severus still seemed dissatisfied.  
  
Taking a guess, Harry asked, "How long will it take to finish the scans   
and get the write-ups?"  
  
Proving Harry right, Severus muttered, "Probably the rest of the summer   
break for all of them. It is possible for me to make an adjustment to   
allow for the scans to be done at once and stored, but the change could   
potentially affect the results and would negate the comparison between   
our previous scan together and the next one." Staring sightlessly at the   
parchment, Severus continued to think aloud, "I'll make the adjustment   
after the second scan together; our individual scans should be done in   
quick succession so as to remove the variable of time changing us."  
  
Harry sat down; he felt dizzy from trying to keep track of the whirlwind   
reasoning Severus presented.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Severus smirked. Harry looked dazed in his efforts to follow the path of   
sound logic. "It's the scientific method, Potter. Try asking Miss   
Granger about it sometime; I'm sure she'd be more than happy to tell you   
all about it."  
  
A rather childish grimace was Harry's reply; Severus was surprised the   
boy didn't stick out his tongue as well before rambling on. "Speaking of   
Hermione, what's going to happen once the school year starts?"  
  
"Part of that will depend upon the information we learn from the scans.   
All teachers return the week before the year starts at the very latest,   
so we will have some time," Severus observed. "However there must needs   
be a certain level of normality; we can't very well be joined at the hip   
for the rest of our days."  
  
Having been lost in daydreams rather than listening to Severus as was   
normal for the boy, Harry perked up. "Perhaps we can do something about   
this beforehand." Rising from the chair, he came closer, "I've got the   
healing ability now, and I've repaired holes in your aura before. Maybe   
I can heal over that funnel connection to your Dark Mark."  
  
Alarmed, Severus took several steps back to distance himself from the   
foolish boy, "You'll do no such thing without further information being   
gathered first. Sit back down."  
  
Harry paused, almost pouting, "But I'm sure it'll work."  
  
It appeared that Potter needed a bit of a scare. "You're sure, are you?   
Do you remember what happened each time you touched the Dark Mark? It   
would be at the height of stupidity to act without planning concerning   
this. Our ... new abilities are near to complete unknowns. I would much   
prefer avoiding the possibility of further harm to either of us."  
  
Finally Harry obeyed, albeit reluctantly, and Severus was relieved to   
hear the quill coming to a halt and replacing itself into its holder.   
The room around them grew quiescent once more. 


	37. Probes and Photographs

A/N: Hurrah! Someone commented at my LiveJournal site! And what a nice   
comment it was- not to mention the other heartwarming ones I've gotten   
here last chapter. Thank you!  
  
This chapter, I've actually posted two pictures to go with the story;   
they're the actual photographs described in this chapter, so go and   
look! I would however strongly suggest reading the chapter before doing   
so- you'll be less confused that way as to what they're for. I just hope   
this doesn't run up my bandwidth ;)   
http://www.livejournal.com/users/athenakt  
  
Disclaimers apply as always. Resistance is futile. Thank you for reading   
and reviewing!  
  
------------------------------  
  
Chapter 37  
  
Keeping a wary eye on Harry, Severus moved around him to return to the   
parchment's table. A distinct mixture of distrust and protectiveness was   
present in his aura, accompanied by a trace of fear and his ever-present   
self-loathing. Harry blinked as the last emotion sunk in, having just   
realized it for what it was despite how much it had constantly permeated   
the aura; almost like the background color for a painting on canvas. The   
base layer upon which all else rested. Disturbed at this new awareness,   
Harry remained where he was.   
  
Severus finally turned his attention away in order to mutter a few   
spells at the parchment and the room in general. As Harry watched, the   
energy flowed from and around Severus, moving fluidly from his wand to   
their targets as though they were a darker and gaseous form of   
quicksilver.  
  
Distracting himself with a passing curiosity of what his own spells   
looked like to Severus, Harry shoved his hands in his pockets and asked,   
"Are we going to do the second scan now?"  
  
It took a moment before Severus could tear his eyes from the parchment   
he had retrieved from the table. "Yes. Quite." Scowling at Harry, he   
added, "I forbid you to try anything on the Dark Mark. If you are   
harmed, I will make certain you are healed so that I might make you   
deeply regret the action myself. Go stand there," he muttered,   
indicating the same spot Harry had stood during the first scan and   
placing the parchment roll on his chair off to the side.  
  
The scan, once Severus activated the room again, felt as it did the   
first time. A wash of power like a strong, cool wind swept through them,   
guided by Severus' quiet murmurs. Where last time he had been watching   
Severus' magic affecting the room, this time Harry tried appreciating   
the refreshing sense the unmoving wind gave him, closing his eyes and   
just feeling the power around him. It surged and retreated like ocean   
waves ... beamed over him like the sun warming his skin ... gently   
caressed him like a spring breeze. It involved his senses so much he   
could barely get out the wondering thought that such a sense of nature   
could be locked up within the cold stone of Severus' dungeons.  
  
At long last the feelings slowly faded, but Harry was reluctant to open   
his eyes. Off to one side he could just barely hear the swish of   
Severus' robes as he moved toward the runes in front of them. More   
muttered words were heard and the humming of the room grew softer until   
it became only background noise; something one might not notice unless   
one knew it was there. Harry sighed, slowly blinking his eyes open.   
Severus stood before him, smirk firmly in place, "I was not aware that   
your species of student had evolved the ability to sleep whilst   
standing. How fortunate; that should save on space and furniture in the   
student dorms."  
  
"Very funny." But Harry had trouble hiding his amusement completely.   
"So. What do we do next?"  
  
"'We' change the configuration of the runes so that it will be able to   
store several scans at once and process them in sequence. Then we will   
begin our next set of readings." When Harry made a groaning noise,   
Severus raised an eyebrow. "You didn't seem to mind doing this while the   
scans were running."  
  
Harry harrumphed, "I don't mind the scans at all. It's the waiting for   
the readings. And how long is it going to take you to do these changes   
to the runes?"  
  
Having been vindicated as the one doing the work, Severus generously   
didn't sneer at Harry's behavior. "Approximately an hour. Quite possibly   
less depending upon how well the new equations take. Why don't you wait   
outside the room. Next year's potions text can be found on the second   
bookshelf to the left on the third level from the bottom. You can start   
revising and your chatter will not cause distractions and delays."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Feeling like he'd been kicked out of the rune room, Harry decided to get   
even by thoroughly perusing the photographs on Severus' shelves. As soon   
as the door closed behind him, Harry went over to the area he'd only   
gotten a brief look at the first time he'd been in Severus' personal   
rooms. The small potions bottles were curious but not surprising   
considering who he was dealing with. Many of them were empty, but there   
were a few that were not ... and he noticed that one of the smallest   
ones held a liquid that Harry thought just might be Veritaserum.   
Shivering, he recalled when Severus (who had then been The Greasy Git,   
Snape) had threatened to use some Veritaserum on Harry. Apparently the   
threat hadn't been idle; not that he'd thought it was, but seeing the   
liquid in the flesh brought the concept home rather forcefully.  
  
Harry quickly decided to turn his attention upon the sparse photographs   
to be had. They were all kept in simple frames also made of wood except   
for one which was an elegantly shaped silver. Two boys stood on the   
Quiddich pitch, their smiles ones of accomplishment and dark humor as   
they held their diplomas before them for the camera. The boys were   
studies in opposites, one being pale-haired, slender and proud while the   
other's hair was long, dark, and frequently blew in the wind to   
partially cover his face, his body wiry rather than aesthetically slim.   
It certainly wasn't difficult at all to recognize them as being Lucius   
Malfoy and Severus when they graduated Hogwarts. The silver frame marked   
this picture as likely having been a gift from Malfoy as all of the   
other frames matched each other perfectly.  
  
The next picture also took place on the quidditch pitch, this time   
containing a small group of students in their sixth year perhaps. The   
Slytherin quidditch team from the looks of it. Lucius stood with the   
confidence of the team captain, smiling and surveying his team with   
pride. Severus smirked rather than smiled, and only briefly after   
lightly tossing the quaffle at the head of one of the chasers whom Harry   
couldn't recognize.  
  
Another picture that drew Harry's attention was one of an older man with   
the look of intelligence in his black eyes. His hair was short and   
somewhat severely styled, drawing attention to his intent gaze as he   
poured liquid from a long beaker into a test tube. Despite working on   
what looked to be a potion, the man was dressed quite formally in a robe   
with a white shirt buttoned at collar and cuffs underneath. Harry   
wondered if this person is from where Severus got his tastes in clothing   
and became curious as to who this unfamiliar man was.  
  
The last picture was also of the unfamiliar man, this time in more of a   
home-like setting although not a lot can be seen of it in the   
background. Apparently the man was in a thoughtful mood when the picture   
was taken as he looked quite distracted, although the faintest of traces   
of what could become a smile could be seen as well. Again he was dressed   
buttoned up to the collar, and in this picture which was more of a close   
up than the other, Harry could also make out concentration lines on the   
man's forehead in a similar pattern to Severus'. Harry's next   
speculation was a wondering one as to if this man might just be ...   
Severus' father.  
  
There weren't any other pictures- not even of any women who could   
potentially be Severus' mother. Disappointed, Harry wandered over to the   
bookshelf Severus had directed him to in order to take down the potions   
text for next year. At least he'd have it on hand to pretend to read   
while he was thinking over what he'd seen.  
  
By the time the door to the other room eventually opened, Harry had sat   
on the chair he had chosen and stared through the book for a while,   
gotten up and paced around the chair, leaned on it with the book in hand   
(just in case), wandered back to the shelves with the book in hand   
(again just in case), and was currently staring at the picture of the   
man working on his potion.   
  
Absorbed in his thoughts, Harry didn't hear the near-silent approach of   
the older wizard behind him and nearly jumped out of his skin when   
Severus suddenly spoke. "Yes, he is in fact working on potions. However,   
it would be rather difficult to learn anything by watching without   
interaction."  
  
Harry looked up and behind him at Severus who was gazing at the   
photograph of the man without expression, his aura difficult to read but   
not the most pleasant, either ... a muddled rain-like mixture of sorrow,   
guilt and anger. Returning his attention to the man in the photograph,   
Harry saw that he was returning Severus' gaze with that very faint   
almost-smile which almost looked like fondness. "Is that your ..." The   
word 'dad' didn't seem to fit in with this man, " ... Father?"  
  
"Yes," Severus quietly replied.  
  
Just as quietly, Harry asked, "Is he ... still around?"  
  
"Yes." Severus' aura grew harder to read, if anything.  
  
"Where is he, then?" Harry curiously studied Severus.  
  
"In Azkaban." 


	38. Distraction and Detachment

A/N: I covet my reviews. I save them in a leetle folder all of their   
own. I love adding more to them; it makes me gleeful. Thank you for   
reading and reviewing! Disclaimers apply as always.  
  
My LiveJournal's still live, and I'm glad to see that some people have   
gone to see the pics for the last chapter there. It didn't even cut   
horrifically into my bandwidth! So go, read and if you want, feel free   
to comment...  
  
http://www.livejournal.com/users/athenakt/  
  
------------------------  
  
Chapter 38  
  
Severus saw Harry stiffen and pale in his peripheral vision and   
regretted his last statement, however true it might be. He should have   
just told the boy to mind his own business, but he'd rather hoped that   
the harsh reality would give Potter further reason to curb his   
Gryffindor tendencies, to be more cautious and allow him his privacy.   
Severus turned from the picture of his father's fond gaze to regard the   
boy who looked like his knees weren't going to support him for much   
longer. "Go and sit down before you fall down, and pull yourself   
together." Not wanting to discuss the topic further, Severus walked over   
to his desk across the room.  
  
Harry found his way to Albus' chair by the fireplace, falling into it   
and continuing his stare at Severus if the prickling on the back of his   
neck was any indication. Annoyed, Severus sorted through the notes on   
his latest project, "Do I have to send you away to sort yourself out in   
your own room? I'd rather get the next batch of scans done now but if   
you're going to insist on your current bout of emotional upheaval the   
readings will contain potential inaccuracies."  
  
Severus decided that reviewing his notes for the interrupted project   
would be best; Albus had caught him mid-sentence when he made his urgent   
request to go and fetch Potter from New York where he'd been abandoned.   
Such a short time ago and yet it seemed like an age. And now the dubious   
protection given by his family's blood didn't look like it was going to   
do much good any longer. What with the new link between him and Potter   
he had the uneasy suspicion that he was going to be seeing more of the   
boy than he might like to in future school breaks.  
  
"I'm sorry."   
  
The fool boy thought some sort of good would come out of an apology?   
"What are you sorry for, Potter?" Severus kept his tone business-like as   
he scanned his work.  
  
"I'm ... I ... that your father is in Azkaban, I mean," the boy offered   
timidly.  
  
"It wasn't your fault," Severus pointed out, reasonably enough he   
thought. Hmm. With his new 'outlook' on things, he just might have to   
revise parts of his research...  
  
"I know," Potter replied in frustration. "I'm- just trying to express my   
sympathy, damnit!"  
  
How annoying ... Severus spoke without looking up from his papers. "You   
may save your sympathy for those who require it of you." It was the work   
of a moment to find something to distract Potter from that topic. "We   
have some time left tonight; I suggest that you take a break to help   
calm yourself. I have a number of fictional works on the last shelf that   
you may borrow a selection from. You may also call the kitchens for some   
tea and snacks if you would like. We will perform the next scans in one   
hour, so you would be best served by remaining here."  
  
A frustrated sigh came from the direction of his student who paused as   
though about to speak. Instead he stomped over to the bookshelf, grabbed   
a book almost at random and stomped back. At the sound of Harry throwing   
himself into the chair, Severus tried amusing himself by mildly   
murmuring, "I'll thank you not to damage my property," before delving   
into his notes in earnest.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Severus was hurt. Harry could see it; harsh colors of the self-loathing   
that swirled around him in jagged pieces as though searching for weak   
spots to gain entry. The sharp pieces weren't able to find their way in,   
however. There was a sort of layer between Severus and them; a layer of   
numb nothingness ... detachment ... cold logic. It explained his current   
behavior, Harry supposed. Severus was still busily reading from a pile   
of parchment, a quill in hand as he made the occasional notation.  
  
When he put in the order for tea and biscuits, Harry made certain there   
was a second cup and enough sweets on hand for them both. He'd even   
filled a cup with tea and set it on Severus' desk, just out of the way   
of his papers. Still no response from the man and his tea was getting   
cold now.  
  
He needed- wanted Severus to show a reaction. Ever since delivering the   
information about his father's being a prisoner in Azkaban, Severus   
seemed to nearly shut down emotionally. But how to get a reaction? Harry   
dismissed the idea of bringing up the subject of Severus' father for   
now; he didn't like the idea of using a person for whom Severus seemed   
to have some sort of feeling for in order to achieve his own ends- even   
if they were for Severus' benefit. There was no way that Harry was about   
to get Severus angry with him by goading him with insults or annoying   
him. He knew he'd just as easily be chucked out of the room as have his   
problem solved. And Harry had worked so hard on improving their   
relationship out of both necessity and more recently out of his own   
wishes.  
  
Ah. Severus is an intellectual. He's even concentrating on intellectual   
pursuits of some sort in those notes of his in an effort to ... distance   
himself? So then, perhaps an intellectual method would work best.  
  
Harry had always counted himself as being somewhat intelligent, perhaps   
more crafty and wise than smart however. What sort of intellectual topic   
could he bring up that Severus would respond to? He looked down at the   
book he'd taken from Severus shelf for the first time as though for   
inspiration. 'The Fall' by Albert Camus. French? Interesting but not of   
any help right now...  
  
Wait. There was an intellectual topic right in the next room, ready made   
for him! Harry turned to study Severus carefully, "You'll be looking at   
the results from the scan before you go over it with Professor Vector,   
won't you?"  
  
Severus continued his notes for a moment, finishing what he was writing   
before replying in his distant tone, "Yes, after we've finished our next   
round of scans. You do realize it will be necessary to perform another   
full set of them in future? All six of them."  
  
"Another six after these?" Harry nearly groaned. "Whyever for?"  
  
Looking up only briefly, Severus murmured, "We have to take readings   
when our ... abilities have reversed again and I am the one with the   
aura sight."  
  
Grumbling at the idea of the time spent, Harry nevertheless had to agree   
that if their information was going to be complete they'd have to do as   
Severus advised. It was then he noticed that Severus had distracted him   
with a subject that Harry could potentially spend lots of time griping   
about- if Harry hadn't been determined with his own project. He shook   
his head and glared at the top of Severus' head which was currently bent   
back to his work.  
  
"All right," Harry sighed as he went back to his Severus-watching, "I   
see your point. But what I was asking was ... well ..." Severus was   
showing signs of irritation at the interruptions while Harry's mind   
furiously searched for something else to ask him. Ah-ha! "You said this   
room was a secret one that Headmaster Dumbledore didn't know about. What   
if Professor Vector found out about the room when she's helping with the   
translations?"  
  
Finally Severus put down his quill and rubbed at the bridge of his nose.   
The layer of detachment was growing thinner; signs of calm and a curious   
surprise began to show in the aura as Severus looked over to study Harry   
in return. "A good question, Pot- Harry," he allowed. "However,   
Professor Vector already knows about this room- in theory at any rate.   
She helped me with my research for creating it. I'm certain she will be   
more than happy to get a look at the finished product. She is a   
professional, and tr- trusted by Dumbledore," Severus finished with a   
stuttered realization.  
  
Quietly, Harry gave voice to it. "But things are no longer the same any   
longer, are they? For both of us, when it comes to the Headmaster."  
  
"We shall see, Potter," Severus muttered darkly. "We shall see."  
  
------------------------------  
  
A/N2: I put mention of Albert Camus' "The Fall" as it was a novel I   
enjoyed and had some influence on me. Written from a very interesting   
narrative perspective and has lots of good ideas to chew on. 


	39. Reasoning and Retrospection

A/N: I'd like to take the opportunity to especially thank my reviewers   
for the last chapter reviews; they were especially enjoyable and I got   
more than I usually do. *beams* I really wish I had the time to reply   
to all of them, but I'd prefer to spend the time working on the story.   
And if I were to only reply to one or two of them, I'd worry about   
disappointing those I didn't reply to.   
  
There have certainly been a number of them that I've wanted to send   
responses for...  
  
Anyway, LJ is still here: http://www.livejournal.com/users/athenakt/  
  
This chapter is actually dedicated to one of my reviewers who spotted   
an inconsistency that I'm clearing up this chapter. And as this chapter   
is rather late, I'm making this one rather longer for two weeks worth.   
Hope you enjoy! Details at the LJ.  
  
I also believe I'm going to have to up the rating to PG-13 for some   
very depressing thoughts. Well, I did put this in the Angst category,   
didn't I? ;)   
  
Just to review, text between // marks are flashbacks.  
  
Disclaimers apply as always.  
  
-----------------------------------  
  
Chapter 39  
  
With his less than satisfactory reply to the boy, Severus irritably   
grabbed at his quill, quickly confirmed that he'd completed his last   
thought and put his previous project to the side in favor of the   
parchment from the scan. In order to forestall any further interruption,   
Severus checked the time and growled, "Another ten minutes. Now, do   
be quiet for that period of time or the effort behind waiting an hour will   
be a waste."  
  
Thankfully the boy pouted and went back to the chair to sit down,   
leaving Severus in peace. He could take the time to pull his somewhat   
tattered shield back around himself and keep from thinking of Albus'   
deceptions; those thoughts unpleasantly lead to the past. His internal   
sigh was nearly transformed into an exclamation before he managed to   
subdue it; what he was reading from the parchment was ... strange.   
Oh, some of what he could discern for himself was nothing more than   
what he'd expected, but there were small bits of ... interference is the   
best description that he could think of, and it was centered around   
Potter. Shaking his head in puzzlement, Severus noted that section as   
one of the areas to consult with Vector on later.  
  
Delving into the portions that were somewhat more readable, Severus   
found the unsurprising existence of a cord-like link between Potter and   
himself. Seemingly this was the method of the exchange of energies   
between them on those occasions that one of them healed the other.   
There were also a few other odd readings from around them, likely the   
energies they both contained now that these new abilities had been   
activated.  
  
While the rune room had always been of enormous help to him, this   
particular issue was clearly something more complicated than the   
occasional stray hex or tracing charm. Severus decided one of his next   
areas of research would be to apply his own specialty of potions to the   
new situation that he and Potter found themselves in. It had been   
some time since he'd had enough time or necessity to break new   
boundaries in the field of Potions ... not since he and his father ... His   
father whose brilliant mind was slowly being destroyed.  
  
The clock on his mantelpiece quietly chimed the hour, startling Severus   
out of his increasingly distressing thoughts. Time to run the scan, and   
he had barely been able to gather himself back together before finding   
additional rents in his armor developing. Severus' jaw was tight with   
tension as he ordered Potter to follow him back into the room. He   
would make do. He would maintain control.  
  
Potter walked into the room, casting a glance back at him that seemed   
to be both curious and troubled, but he remained otherwise silent as   
he moved into his previous position in the scanning area. What the boy   
might be seeing was something Severus didn't care to dwell upon as he   
produced his wand and made the necessary adjustments and spells to   
activate the room's scanning.  
  
The usual sensations washed over Severus, and he found himself   
losing some of his control over his emotions. The feeling of washing   
sunlight and faint spring breezes always brought him to remember their   
soothing balm across his skin as he stood in Dumbledore's office.   
Normally he was able to concentrate on other things, but his current   
state of mind worked against him and he plunged into memory...  
  
* * * * *  
  
//A wafting of fresh air from an unseen open window ... Snape wished   
he could throw himself through it to plunge to his death on a   
convenient turret. Or perhaps to drown in the lake. What part of the   
castle was the Headmaster's office located in? He'd never been able to   
figure it out; there was something very strange about the room.   
Unsurprising considering its occupant.  
  
He refocused his attention upon the seated Headmaster who seemed   
to be involved in the task of summoning forth a late night tea. Snape   
went over the events of the previous few minutes to see if he'd missed   
something to warrant the Headmaster's casual behavior. Let's see, he'd   
gained entry using the special password the Headmaster had given him   
just after the Shrieking Shack incident in the case he wanted or needed   
to talk to the Headmaster about it. Snape had never had the urge to   
take him up on the offer. Until now.  
  
He'd entered the office, half expecting to be struck down by a powerful   
ward and not being entirely concerned about that apart from the delay   
to his intended task. Holding his wand by the tip rather than by the   
handle, he had placed it upon the Headmaster's desk and taken a step   
back in the formal Wizard gesture of Surrender. The older wizard sitting   
behind the desk solemnly watched Snape for some moments before   
beaming a pleased smile at him and exclaiming, "Severus, so good to   
see you. You look famished. Would you like some tea? And some   
chocolate covered biscuits, I think. Yes." Having answered himself, the   
Headmaster had set himself to the task he was just now completing   
when Snape came back to the present.  
  
"I've come to turn myself in. You've got to help my Father." The latter   
sentence wasn't a command or even a plea; instead it was couched in   
a raspy and deadened voice that Snape didn't recognize as his own.  
  
"Now now, there will be enough time for that after you've had a bite to   
eat," the Headmaster sternly replied. "You look as though you're about   
to collapse. Sit down."  
  
His desperation surged to the fore as Snape nevertheless found himself   
sitting at the Headmaster's command despite his best intentions.   
"There is no time," he choked out, "They've taken him. They'll throw   
him in Azkaban without a trial. He'll be destroyed." Snape's eyes   
widened and he felt unshed tears there. "... destroyed. You've got to   
stop it ... Please. Do anything to me."  
  
Waving one hand, Dumbledore murmured, "I hardly think that will be   
necessary, my dear boy. We shall see what can be done about your   
father, but it may be difficult in these dark times. If he bears the Mark,   
the consequences have been decreed by the Ministry."//  
  
* * * * *  
  
//"Why did you join him, Father?" Severus asked as they diced roots   
together. It was the summer before his third year at Hogwarts and the   
day after his birthday. Parcelsis, Severus' father, had made it known to   
Severus that having reached the age of thirteen, Severus was now   
mature enough to be told certain things. His father's allegiance to   
Voldemort being one of them.  
  
The senior Snape furrowed his brow in brooding thought as his knife   
moved with unerring precision, cutting his root into neat rows of cubes.   
"It is partially for the knowledge and resources he has afforded me.   
When it comes to the issue of the furtherance of the knowledge of   
Wizardkind, not to mention the archiving of our past discoveries- no   
matter how insignificant or how dark- you cannot always rely on the   
Ministry to do what is right. They sneer at that which they do not deem   
suitable for the masses at large and declaim some very important   
discoveries as Dark magic when it could be used just as easily for the   
benefit of all. I am of the hopes that you have come to understand this   
in the lessons I've given you during your youth."  
  
"Yes, Father," young Severus solemnly replied. His own roots weren't of   
the exactitude of his elder, but for his age they were done with a   
startling ease from years of practice. Pausing politely before   
continuing, Severus placed his root cubes in with the others that were   
done and reached for another. "You said that that was part of the   
reason?"  
  
Leaving Severus to finish the remaining two roots, Parcelsis cleaned his   
knife and board before starting on the next ingredient, slicing open   
stewed snails with a single swift movement and depositing each   
prepared snail into another bowl. "Quite. The other reason is due to a   
Wizard's debt." Father and son both valued communication in as few   
wasted words as possible, so rather than requiring his son to inquire as   
to the nature of the debt, he answered the unasked question. "The   
elder Mr. Malfoy, Cassius, and I were housemates as you and his son   
Lucius were, only Mr. Malfoy is my senior by two years...  
  
"There had been a ... terrible incident when your mother and I were out   
in Muggle London- you were staying with the Malfoys for the evening,   
and we were on our way from the restaurant to collect you before   
returning home." It was rare that Severus' father showed any   
discomfort or allowed grief to slip past the bonds of logic, but at that   
moment it seemed difficult for him to fully restrain them. His hands   
trembled slightly as he deposited the diced roots into the quietly   
steaming potion they were working on, stirring the mixture carefully.   
"... One of those Muggle cars swerved from the road when it was   
turning the corner. The Ministry later told me it was a drunk Muggle,   
but that didn't stop the driver from speeding away without further   
issue. I was barely able to stay conscious long enough to send a   
message to Malfoy Manor through the device I always carried with   
me when you stayed there...  
  
"When I'd ... regained consciousness ... Cassius saved my life. And the   
Ministry... they never found who killed your mother, Severus. The   
Ministry of Magic and all of their departments couldn't see their way to   
finding the culprit. Eventually the case was dropped altogether."  
  
Severus wanted to protest against what had happened- the injustice of   
it. But he couldn't speak the words past the horrified anger that   
stopped his throat. His knife was poised over another of the many   
ingredients to be prepared and added to their potion, all movement   
aborted. It was when his logic-trained mind realized that protest would   
avail him of nothing that he found himself able to move again. He put   
his knife down and pressed his hands down flat upon the surface of the   
table, fingers becoming stained with the juices of what he'd just been   
cutting. Eventually he looked back up at his Father who took that as   
his prompting to go on.  
  
"Cassius took further steps to get what he could from the Ministry, but   
there was only so much they would do, even with his influence.   
Eventually he decided to take me to someone who could help. He knew   
and was willing to use the spells necessary to track down the Muggle   
who was responsible. He brought him before me ... and he killed him."   
Severus shivered at the words, unable to tear his gaze from the   
unusually grim figure of his Father who was staring intently at the snail   
he was now preparing. "He carried out my honor, and so I thusly owe it   
to him. As I owe Cassius my life. It is a Wizard's Bond, Severus-   
something I take quite seriously, and so should you. Your word is   
something to be kept, and thusly to be valued by others."  
  
"Yes, Father." Severus was thankful for the opportunity to respond to   
something familiar rather than this new knowledge that gnawed at his   
stomach.//  
  
* * * * *  
  
//The special box that Severus' Father gave him the summer before his   
sixth year was carefully hidden in his trunk, covered by a notice-me-not   
charm he'd learned for such things years ago. When he woke to get an   
early start on the first day of school, Severus promptly delved into the   
trunk past the charm to take out the vial of potion that his Father's   
spell had delivered.  
  
As he snuck into the shower to make use of the hair potion, Severus   
remembered with warmth the complexity of the arrangement his Father   
had made for him, and the brilliant intellect necessary for its discovery;   
it was at times like this that he was most proud to be his Father's son.  
  
The box was specially crafted for its purpose; it was for all intents a   
new type of portkey for the receipt of the vials of potion that his Father   
sent. This was only half of the invention, however. His Father's   
cauldron itself was a craft of masterwork, layered with spells of his   
own making. Those potions that did not need special methods of   
preservation or highly uncommon ingredients could literally be   
summoned from the cauldron. All it took was the replenishing of the   
basic materials needed- a task he'd trained his house elves to do with   
great efficiency. The final touch was a timed and recurring spell to   
summon forth and stopper the potion in a vial for delivery. In this   
way, Severus was assured of the delivery of his hair potion even on   
those days that his Father might be called away by The Dark Lord.  
  
Severus smiled with certainty as he massaged the potion into his   
darkening hair. There was no way he was going to be caught out by the   
Marauders by using his own hair against him again.//  
  
* * * * *  
  
When the scan started, Harry was met with the sight of Severus   
standing firmly poised to spring into action as was his wont, and then  
suddenly his expression crumpled into one of grief and anger as he   
sank to the floor, seemingly unaware of his surroundings. Quickly  
Harry went to support Severus, trying to call him back from where he  
had gone. The aura surrounding the older wizard showed evidence of  
the shards of self-loathing piercing the thinned layers of his  
detachment.  
  
As Harry called to Severus, he ran his hands over the areas of  
Severus' aura that was wounded by the shards. While he watched,  
those areas became gradually soothed and the pain in Severus'  
expression slowly became a grief born of sadness and not anger.  
Continuing his efforts at soothing seemed to do good although  
Severus didn't immediately return to awareness. The coolness that   
Harry felt he used to channel through to Severus in the hopes it would  
be of help. Once the scan had completed and the room had grown   
more quiet, Severus stirred. Dark eyes blinked open, clouded with  
confusion, and a roughened voice murmured, "What happened?"  
  
"I was just about to ask you that," Harry gently replied. 


	40. Floos and Fishgaping

A/N: Thank you, thank you - 400 times, thank you! Again I've had a week   
filled with lots of great reviews, bringing me up to over four   
centuries worth. ;)  
  
Sorry for the delay, RL's reared its ugly head lately. I've put some   
efforts towards making revisions of previous chapters, however. Mostly   
corrections and small improvements; if I were to make major changes I   
may as well just write a new story altogether... Anyway, I'll likely be   
posting the altered version in much larger multi-chapter sections when   
I'm done.  
  
LJ is still here and looking for company as I blather on about this   
chapter and future plans. Comments are welcome!   
http://www.livejournal.com/users/athenakt/  
  
Disclaimers apply as always.  
  
---------------------------  
  
Chapter 40  
  
Severus looked up at Harry in weary bemusement, and Harry couldn't help   
but to run a soothing hand along the older man's back once more. "Let's   
get you over to the chair and you can rest a minute." Severus had   
tensed slightly at Harry's touch but offered no further protest as he   
was assisted to his feet and guided to the chair in the corner to sit.  
  
Moments passed before Severus stirred again, raising a hand to press at   
the bridge of his nose and taking a breath. As swiftly as he was able,   
Severus gathered up the tattered shreds of his composure and rewove   
them into something passably strong. Harry couldn't help but reach a   
hand out and gently move it through the place where Severus' aura   
shone at its darkest.  
  
The sight of it from close up brought Harry to a startled realization,   
and he breathed, "Scars. Old scars on your aura." His hand passed   
through the aura to rest on Severus' shoulder.  
  
Severus swiftly pressed himself to his feet and moved beyond Harry's   
reach, leading the way out to the main room. Tonelessly, he muttered,   
"You should go to your rooms now. They are just across the hall. The   
password is "Phoenix Feathers".  
  
Harry wanted to protest, but the weariness in Severus' eyes and aura   
urged him to give Severus time to rest and recover for a while. He   
nodded reluctantly but added, "We might want to be careful at first; we   
haven't really been away from each other for any length of time except   
in the Hospital Wing which was warded for us."  
  
Watching Harry approach again, Severus nodded briefly and closed the   
door to the Rune room after Harry. Warding the door, Severus kept   
himself a safe and comfortable distance from the younger wizard. "Go   
on, then. Keep your door open at first, and then we'll go from there."  
  
"What about Peeves? Harry questioned. "Won't he be able to get into our   
rooms and wreak havoc?"  
  
With signs of a faint smirk, however brief, Severus shook his head.   
"For ghosts or poltergeists, wards are wards- whether the door is open   
or closed. At least in /my/ rooms and the other dungeon suites that   
I've seen to long ago. The Bloody Baron is the only one capable of   
entering these rooms without special measures being taken. Peeves is   
fearful of the Bloody Baron and rarely wreaks down here- havoc or   
otherwise."  
  
Harry nodded slowly with amusement and started to make his way along   
the bookshelves towards the door. In sudden realization, he grinned and   
turned back, "Thank you, Severus. For rescuing me and everything. I   
suppose I should also thank you for all you've done to keep me safe   
when I was younger, too. I never ... appreciated it."  
  
Blinking in surprise, Severus absorbed the words for several moments   
before nodding brusquely. "You're welcome, Pot- ... Harry. Go to your   
room and rest now."  
  
It was then that Severus' fireplace sparked to life, a familiar voice   
coming from within. "Severus. Are you there?"  
  
Harry recognized with shock that the voice belonged to Lucius Malfoy.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The boy's eyes widened in shock as Severus watched, and he quickly   
gestured at Harry to dispel any foolish urge to confront his caller.   
Silently he mouthed the words, "Stay here and stay silent," to Harry so   
that he would stay out of visual range of Lucius in the fireplace. At   
Harry's hesitant nod of agreement, Severus stared pointedly at him for   
a moment more before turning to make his way to the area before the   
fireplace.  
  
Calmly, Severus regarded his boyhood companion. "Good day, Lucius. I   
expect that you have any number of reasons for flooing me."  
  
"And you know them all, Severus," was Lucius reply, his stern features   
lightening upon first sight of Severus. "Likely you could deliver an   
hour dissertation on each," he added wryly.  
  
"And from the sound of things, you must be alone." Severus took a   
moment to study the blonde wizard whose hair was unrumpled, his   
composure absolute. He knew that Lucius' clothing and Manor would   
follow the same theme, no matter the stress he might be under at the   
moment. He murmured, "I hope things didn't go too badly for you?"  
  
"Too badly?" Lucius questioned with a touch of sarcasm, "No, not at   
all- for me at any rate. I just got to take a tour of America's   
charming eastern countryside and seaboard with nothing to show for it   
apart from nettles in my cloak and sand in my shoes. So I was away   
while the Dark Lord was venting his displeasure upon the others. That   
will change later, I expect, when he next summons us and I tell him the   
results of my search."  
  
Severus winced, knowing that displeasure from experience. "I suppose   
you're calling to make me feel guilt over it."  
  
Lucius smirked despite the unease of what faced him later, "That and to   
ask for a bit of your specialty for when I get home." Taking a longer   
look at Severus, Lucius seemed a touch concerned- although to others   
with less experience of the man, the flicker of the gaze would convey   
anything but that. "You look rather hellish if I might say so."  
  
"You may," Sighing, Severus deliberately kept himself from glancing to   
the side where no doubt Harry was gaping at him like a fish. "I'll send   
some of the potion over to Narcissa when it's ready; it's time to make   
a fresh batch."  
  
Knowingly, Lucius muttered, "It's been a busier summer than we'd   
anticipated last year, eh Severus? Looks like you'll have to get back   
into the habit of keeping that in stock now that he's back."  
  
"You're hardly safe on that end," Severus growled. "And neither is   
Draco. When are you going to swallow your pride and leave? Especially   
now that I seem to have been sunken into his disfavor?"  
  
The other wizard snorted, "If you were any more disfavored you'd be a   
pile of ash, Severus. He hasn't actually called you a traitor yet, but   
between his paranoia and his intelligence it won't be long. I'd suggest   
you don't go out for a while."  
  
Wryly, Severus shook his head, "I'll trade your services of shopping   
for a few of my more ... selective ingredients for this month's supply   
of the potion, then."  
  
"Agreed. So long as you don't use the version that contains that   
repulsive tasting wart root."  
  
Severus couldn't help but chuckle. "Stay on my good side, then."  
  
Lucius suddenly grinned with the warmth contained in his voice,   
"Always." More seriously, he asked, "How is the old fool treating you?"  
  
"The same," Severus immediately replied, deliberately masking his   
reaction to the memory of recent events into impassivity.  
  
Lucius knew better, however, and frowned at the answer. He also knew   
that pushing him would get him nowhere and instead growled, "You know   
how much I despise that man. Even since Fifth year you hadn't been the   
same. You shouldn't stay there."  
  
"And where would I go? With you in the Manor?" Severus dubiously asked.  
  
"You could." Sly grey eyes regarded Severus almost impishly.  
  
"Not the most intelligent move. How long do you think it would take for   
word to get out?" Severus sighed. "Not only would I be at risk, but so   
would you as well as Draco and Narcissa."  
  
Lucius' expression stiffened at the slight to his pride, but Severus   
knew he wasn't enough of a megalomaniac to believe in it blindly. He   
wouldn't have gotten to the position he had if he did. He didn't admit   
to the potential inability to protect them, however. Instead, he   
changed the topic. "Send a list of ingredients with the potion and I'll   
see them delivered tomorrow afternoon."  
  
A touch more kindly, Severus tried for a smile. "Thank you, Lucius.   
Watch your back."  
  
"You too." And with that, the blonde wizard was gone, the fire dying   
down to embers once more.  
  
Surprisingly, Severus found the brief 'visit' to have put him in a   
better mood as he turned to bestow an expectant stare upon Harry who   
was, as he had guessed, gaping like a fish. "Close your mouth, Harry.   
You never know what might fall into it otherwise." 


	41. Dejavu and Deliberation

A/N: And now- live and direct, the Severus/Lucius dialogue- In Full Color   
Harry Vision! Hard to resist, neh? I couldn't resist writing it.   
  
And in reward (or punishment) for your reading my version of deja-vu,   
I'm going to run a little experiment in writing by changing the   
perspective a wee bit for the second half. Please feel free to tell me   
what you think. If it goes well enough perhaps I'll continue writing in   
this manner at least from time to time. Thank you as always for reading   
and reviewing!  
  
I wanted to express my sympathies for those who lost a loved one on   
9/11/01- two years ago as I write this- as well as my pride in how we   
Americans pulled together to handle the tragedy.  
  
http://www.livejournal.com/users/athenakt/  
It's lonely! It wants people to write and tell it that it is loved. ;)  
  
Disclaimers apply as always.  
  
-------------------  
  
Chapter 41  
  
Harry felt himself grow cold at the shock of hearing Lucius Malfoy's voice   
from the fireplace, yet at the same time he felt the heat of anger in his   
hatred of the arrogant man who dared to contact Severus after all that   
had recently come to pass. Harry was ready to stalk over to the fireplace   
and give the elder Malfoy a piece of his mind when he caught sight of   
Severus' aura of caution, and his wordless warning to stay still and   
silent. Harry wasn't happy about it but he agreed to Severus' wish since   
he would know the situation better, as evidenced by his pointed stare.  
  
Severus approached the fireplace, his aura still darkened by caution but   
startlingly without hatred despite his neutral-toned greeting. "Good day,   
Lucius. I expect that you have any number of reasons for flooing me."   
Harry couldn't see Malfoy from where he stood but he most certainly   
would watch Severus for clues.  
  
"And you know them all, Severus," Malfoy's voice replied from the   
bowels of the fireplace, "Likely you could deliver an hour dissertation on   
each." To Harry's surprise, Snape's aura gained a touch of fond   
amusement at the proclamation.  
  
"And from the sound of things, you must be alone. I hope things didn't   
go too badly for you?" Severus asked with what almost sounded like   
concern.  
  
"Too badly?" Malfoy's voice echoed its sarcasm from the floo, "No, not at   
all- for me at any rate. I just got to take a tour of America's   
charming eastern countryside and seaboard with nothing to show for it   
apart from nettles in my cloak and sand in my shoes." Harry felt a surge   
of satisfaction at the sound of Malfoy venting his irritation. He probably   
got stains all over his best suit and had to get his other house elves to   
clean it. Harry suddenly wondered where Dobby was, but Malfoy's   
continued words drew him back to the conversation at hand. "So I was   
away while the Dark Lord was venting his displeasure upon the others.   
That will change later, I expect, when he next summons us and I tell   
him the results of my search."  
  
Severus winced, the darkness in his aura mingled with an understanding   
that Harry wasn't happy to see. He knew Severus was punished by   
Voldemort; he was on hand during the most recent times. "I suppose   
you're calling to make me feel guilt over it."  
  
Malfoy's voice was arrogant and contained none of the entreaty that one   
might hear from someone hoping to receive a favor, "That and to   
ask for a bit of your specialty for when I get home." Sounding even more   
forthright, he added. "You look rather hellish if I might say so."  
  
"You may," Sighing, Severus seemed to keep himself from glancing in   
Harry's direction; something that Harry wasn't going to complain about   
as he was too amazed at Severus' familiar reaction to Malfoy to control   
his expression. He didn't want to get caught gaping like a fish. "I'll send   
some of the potion over to Narcissa when it's ready; it's time to make a   
fresh batch." Resignation without resentment...  
  
Malfoy muttered, "It's been a busier summer than we'd anticipated last   
year, eh Severus? Looks like you'll have to get back into the habit of   
keeping that in stock now that he's back." Harry's irritation grew at   
Malfoy's manner and how he told Severus what he should do.  
  
"You're hardly safe on that end," Severus growled, his aura reflecting his   
own irritation mingled with the concern that Harry couldn't believe   
remained. "And neither is Draco. When are you going to swallow your   
pride and leave? Especially now that I seem to have been sunken into   
his disfavor?"  
  
Malfoy snorted, "If you were any more disfavored you'd be a pile of ash,   
Severus. He hasn't actually called you a traitor yet, but between his   
paranoia and his intelligence it won't be long. I'd suggest you don't go   
out for a while."  
  
Severus shook his head, suddenly decisive and cunning, "I'll trade your   
services of shopping for a few of my more ... selective ingredients in   
exchange for this month's supply of the potion, then."  
  
"Agreed. So long as you don't use the version that contains that   
repulsive tasting wart root." Malfoy's sneering voice replied.  
  
Severus actually chuckled, that perplexing fondness appearing again.   
"Stay on my good side, then."  
  
Harry grew even more confused as Malfoy's voice became suddenly   
warm, "Always." More seriously, he asked, "How is the old fool treating   
you?"  
  
"The same," Severus immediately replied, impassivity taking hold of   
voice, expression and aura as though to automatically hide something.   
Not a surprise to Harry considering what had been recently revealed of   
Dumbledore to them both.  
  
Malfoy didn't seem to take that reply as the truth, growling, "You know   
how much I despise that man. Even since Fifth year you hadn't been the   
same. You shouldn't stay there." Harry's eyes widened; Could Malfoy be   
referring to the Shrieking Shack incident?  
  
"And where would I go? With you in the Manor?" Severus dubiously   
asked.  
  
"You could," was Malfoy's almost impish sounding reply.  
  
"Not the most intelligent move. How long do you think it would take for   
word to get out?" Severus sighed. "Not only would I be at risk, but so   
would you as well as Draco and Narcissa." Not to mention Harry himself.   
And who would teach Potions if Severus wasn't here? Harry tried finding   
amusement at his internal jest but couldn't in light of things.  
  
There was a moment's pause, during which Severus' aura reflected quiet   
confidence; he didn't think anything bad would come of the   
conversation. Did he have that much trust in Malfoy? The aristocrat   
spoke again, this time more formally, "Send a list of ingredients with   
the potion and I'll see them delivered tomorrow afternoon."  
  
Severus tried for a smile, his voice kinder than Harry had heard since   
Severus had regained his memories. "Thank you, Lucius. Watch your   
back."  
  
"You too." The floo disconnected itself, the fire dying down to embers   
once more.  
  
When Severus turned to regard Harry, the surrounding aura implied that   
Severus was ... in a good mood- and showing signs of nostalgia in the   
background. "Close your mouth, Harry. You never know what might fall   
into it otherwise."  
  
Damn, Harry thought. He caught me out.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Thankfully the boy didn't waste his time in composing his expression   
again - at least as well as he was able to. I'll likely have to see about   
teaching him more about that sometime in future, but for now I just   
wanted to secure a bit of time to myself. Seeing Lucius again had   
brought back thoughts and feelings more effectively than time and my   
general healing elixir had. "Well? Go on to your rooms, Harry. Surely you   
haven't already forgotten the password?"  
  
That is enough to goad him into movement once more. Once he reached   
the door, however, he turned back and entreated, "What was that all   
about, with Mr. Malfoy? What potion was he referring to? And why was   
he-"  
  
Upon figuring where this line of questioning was going, I cut the boy off   
before he could go any further, "You'll find out in short order, Mr.   
Potter," I sternly intoned the formal form of his name for effect, "... as   
you'll be assisting me in brewing it. The potion is one which aids in the   
recuperative process for those inflicted by the Cruciatus curse." The boy   
started to look excited, so I cut off his most likely thought as well, "I've   
already tried it with Mr. Longbottom's parents, and while it did relieve   
some minor physical impairments they showed no further signs of   
returning sanity. I think we both know why that is so- something else   
you can research during the summer. Now go and settle yourself into   
your rooms. I'll summon you when it is time for lunch."  
  
Harry looked like he wanted to speak again, but restrained himself and   
left the room. That blasted aura sight can be annoying and an invasion   
of my privacy, but at least it comes in handy in letting him know when   
he'd best not push things and should instead obey me.  
  
I must be getting soft.  
  
Harry. When did I start feeling comfortable calling him that? Yes, I must   
be getting soft. Although the boy hasn't exactly failed to prove himself   
to be growing up, nor has he shown himself to be unintelligent. Just ...   
impulsive and emotional sometimes. Something that he can be taught   
to control when necessary. Especially when he's around me.  
  
But then, I'm not especially into self-delusion or rationalization. The boy   
is slowly becoming a breath of fresh air rather than a stagnant waste of   
a stuffy and spoiled Gryffindor. Reality, it seems, is a matter of   
perspective.  
  
Perhaps I'll take a few moments to review my last paper on the debate   
of Heredity versus Environment.  
  
In the meantime, I determined it was safe enough to secrete away that   
which I do not want the boy to have access to. Harry seemed capable   
enough of handling and playing a musical instrument in our shared   
dream, but this does not mean I would approve of him touching my   
Father's violin. I take it from its long-time home on my bookcase and   
hide it away in one of the secret drawers in my desk with a whisper of   
apology to the polished wood protected by the aged case. I locked and   
concealed the opening once more as fluid notes played themselves over   
in my mind. 


	42. Bolstering and Brewing

A/N: Those people who specified their opinion on my use of the first   
person perspective were about split down the middle. I wanted to thank   
them in particular as I value opinions like those as much as I value all   
of the encouragement I've received from everyone who reviews. I won't be   
using the first person perspective exclusively from now on, rather it   
might come up from time to time when it seems suitable for the tone of   
the story, additional insight from the character involved, or just to   
break the monotony (though I certainly hope the story isn't monotonous).  
  
In addition, I'm becoming determined to step up the pace a bit, so   
eventually we're not going to be going over every detail of each day.   
Thankfully a large amount of the developing relationship between Harry   
and Severus has been gone over, so picking up the pace can be done   
without the sacrifice of character interaction. I'll always write   
interactions, however- that's what I enjoy.  
  
Before I make this author's note into a Live Journal entry, I'll stop   
here. Speaking of which ;)  
http://www.livejournal.com/users/athenakt/  
  
Disclaimers apply as always.  
  
--------------------  
  
Chapter 42  
  
Harry left the doors to Severus' room and his own room across the hall   
open as they had discussed, taking a quick turn around his new chambers   
before throwing himself lengthwise upon the couch to further recover   
from the shock and to relax a bit.  
  
The chambers themselves were surprisingly cozy; the theme was one of   
polished dark wood together with stone, and tapestries and rugs which   
cut down the chill of the dungeons. The furniture was attractive without   
being ornate and managed to be comfortable at the same time as Harry   
found when he started to drowse on the couch in front of the fireplace.  
  
Thoughts of the elder Malfoy and Snape together as kids in Hogwarts   
drifted through him, followed by the realization that they would   
probably have known each other as Death Eaters and apparently continued   
their ... friendship as adults now. He couldn't ignore the warmth in   
their voices during parts of the exchange, and the amount of trust shown   
in the words. Unless the two were speaking in the strangest code he'd   
ever heard of, Malfoy wasn't entirely what Harry had thought. A facade   
perhaps? And if the elder Malfoy was that way, it might be possible that   
Draco was different as well. Maybe even other people, too.  
  
Ron said once that a Slytherin never changes its colors, but between   
Severus and the possibility of the Malfoys, that idea was being proven   
wrong.  
  
Harry must have dropped off, as the next thing he knew Severus was   
knocking on the door frame just on the inside where stone became wood.   
"Wake up, Harry. It's time for lunch, and the Headmaster would like us   
to join him in the Great Hall for the occasion."  
  
Wiping at his eyes to clear the sleep away, Harry got up and politely   
murmured out of habit, "Just a moment please, Professor," as he forced   
himself to move at more than a shuffle to get to his bathroom. Some   
water splashed on his face and a readjustment of his robes made him more   
presentable than he'd been just out of sleep, and he returned to follow   
Severus soon after.  
  
Severus was quiet again as they walked down the halls, and while that   
peaceful calm appeared in his aura as it had earlier on the way down, it   
was now mingled with nostalgia and sadness. The trip out of the dungeons   
passed in silence.  
  
Harry raked his brain for a subject to break the silence and perhaps   
even lift Severus' spirits. "Will we be creating that potion after lunch   
then, Severus? Is it a potion that can be finished in one day?"  
  
The questions seemed to make Severus irritable rather than cheered, but   
at least a portion of the sadness ebbed away into the background. "The   
potion requires two nights and two days for brewing, not to mention a   
certain plant which must be fresh and specially harvested. Fortunately   
the time is right for the harvesting tonight, however there is a limited   
amount to be found during this time of year in the Forbidden Forest. It   
will be one of the ingredients that Lucius will need to acquire for me   
once I've sent him this first batch." Continuing on, Severus muttered   
almost to himself, "In the meantime, if he calls Lucius tonight or   
tomorrow night when the potion isn't yet ready ..." trailing off with a   
scowl of self recrimination.  
  
In a continuation of his attempts at cheering Severus, Harry suggested,   
"Maybe the Centaurs will be around tonight. They might be able to tell   
us if there's another place in the Forest where the plant can be found."  
  
Grasping the handle of the door to the Great Hall, Severus muttered,   
"They hesitate in dealing with me at all. I was lucky to gain their   
assistance one night in finding the amount of plant that I did."  
  
"They hesitate?" Harry asked more quietly as they passed through the   
doors into the Hall. "Do they threaten you, or do they avoid you?"  
  
With a brief scowl, Severus gave the impression he wanted the   
conversation ended as he muttered, "Avoid," and turned to greet   
Dumbledore.  
  
Crossing the hall, they found that the Headmaster had the table   
arrangement similar to how it was during Christmas. One table contained   
place settings although it was somewhat smaller and with only six   
settings. "Ah, Harry. Severus. Good of you to come. The others should be   
joining us momentarily."  
  
Severus nodded briefly and took the chair to Dumbledore's left after the   
Headmaster had made a brief gesture to it with a small smile. Perhaps   
feeling protective, Harry took the seat to Severus' left. "Who else is   
here, Headmaster?"  
  
Smiling over at Harry, Dumbledore replied, "Minerva, Filius and Argus.   
Minerva and Filius have been outside working on Hogwart's wards, and   
Argus is preparing the school for the next year. Ah- there they are   
now," he exclaimed when the doors to the Hall opened again. As the three   
tired looking adults settled themselves at the table, Dumbledore   
summoned forth a hearty meal. Greetings were exchanged with surprisingly   
pleasant feelings, even Mr. Filch who restrained himself from glaring at   
the sight of a student's presence during the summer once Severus   
murmured something about getting him a supply of a cleansing potion   
tomorrow evening.  
  
Curious, Harry swallowed his roast chicken, turned to Severus and asked,   
"What about the other one? You said it would take two days."  
  
Severus glanced over, framed by colors of irritated surprise. "Do you   
believe that I cannot handle brewing more than one potion at a time,   
Harry?" Startled and curious glances settled upon the two as Flitwick   
and Filch absorbed Severus' usage of Harry's first name.  
  
Harry blinked and tried to look sheepish and repentant. "I just never   
thought of doing that. I'd probably get the ingredients mixed up."  
  
"That is why you separate them." Shaking his head at Harry's apparent   
hopelessness, Severus speared some green beans, "It is all a matter of   
timing- as you should know from the years of Potions classes you've had   
already." With a smirk, he added, "From the looks of most of the   
students, it is perhaps prudent for them to learn how to properly treat   
a house elf."  
  
Harry couldn't help but ask, "How come?"  
  
Severus snorted, "Because they're going to need one if they're going to   
have cooked meals without poisoning themselves."  
  
"A good point," Harry admitted with a rueful chuckle.  
  
Dumbledore spoke up with dignified amusement, as though the time in the   
Hospital Ward hadn't happened, "Now you two, eat up. We could use your   
help with the wards this afternoon."  
  
Frowning, Severus replied, "We are going to be occupied with some   
brewing until the night after next, and again hopefully before another   
day has passed. Afterwards we will be more able to contribute."  
  
"Brewing?" Dumbledore inquired. "What potion?"  
  
Pausing only a moment, Severus sighed, "Along with Argus' mixture will   
be the preparation against the Cruciatus."  
  
"I see," was Dumbledore's grave reply. He traded glances with Minerva,   
"Very well, then. Do keep me advised, Severus."  
  
Without looking at Dumbledore again, Severus muttered, "All right."  
  
The rest of the meal passed peacefully on the whole, and Harry soon   
found himself grinding dry materials together with a mortar and pestle   
back in Severus' laboratory. Apart from preparation directives for both   
potions, Severus worked quietly with Harry, his aura one of almost   
meditative contemplation. With smooth and efficient gestures, Severus   
set up two caldrons and collected the ingredients for each on separate   
tables to be prepared and added to each. Fires were lit under both   
cauldrons, and Harry noticed with interest that they were at different   
levels of intensity.  
  
As though he were murmuring to the items he was preparing, Severus'   
voice was a quiet undertone to the flicker of flame and the sound of   
knives on chopping boards, the scrape of pestle on mortar, the splash   
and gurgle of liquids, and lastly the slow and thickening boil from the   
cauldrons themselves. Harry sighed. Brewing potions was somewhat   
relaxing, he decided, at least more relaxing than stressing about the   
new prophecy, the powers that be and/or trying to untangle Severus'   
mental intestines. At least, as long as they weren't brewing in class.  
  
As it grew toward evening, Severus set aside the ladle he'd been using   
and spoke the first words to Harry that weren't instructions on the   
potions. "These can both stew for a while. It's nearly sunset and time   
to gather the fluxweed."  
  
"Fluxweed?" Harry put down his own ladle with a thankful sigh and a   
stretch of his arm. "I thought that had to be gathered at the full moon.   
It's past that now."  
  
"Oh, so we /have/ been listening in Potions class once in a while, have   
we?" Severus smirked, but briefly. "The particular use I put it to   
requires it to be picked after the full moon rather than on it. This is   
rather unusual, I know, but then so is this potion."  
  
Accepting the basket that Severus handed him, Harry grinned back, "Well   
then, let's go!" 


	43. Fluxweed and Frustration

A/N: Aigh! I let Chapter 42 pass without a single reference to Life,   
The Universe and Everything! This time around I'm doing another new   
thing for this story. Part of it will be told from the point of view   
(and emotions) of someone other than Harry and/or Severus. Those of   
you who read my LiveJournal will probably have a pretty good idea of   
who it is (hint hint). ;)  
http://www.livejournal.com/users/athenakt/  
  
Thank you as ever and always for reading and for reviewing.   
Disclaimers apply- I still don't own Harry Potter. I just adore the   
story setting.  
  
-----------------------------  
  
Chapter 43  
  
Once Harry had hung the basket over one arm, he swiveled around to   
make his way to the door and out, for all intents having the mien of a   
someone who is manically eager but anxious. Shaking his head with a   
mixture of amusement and annoyance, Severus followed the boy out of   
Hogwarts and to the Forbidden Forest.  
  
On the way, Harry asked, "If I find a likely plant in my research that   
grows around here and might help Neville's parents, would you come out   
and help me harvest it?"  
  
Severus kept his reply as factual as he was able, "Of course, so long   
as it does not interfere with my duties or plans. You are not to come   
out here- even during the daytime- without supervision. I expect   
you'll be doing a great deal of research in the library beforehand."  
  
Producing his wand, Severus cast a faint Lumos spell, intending to   
extinguish it before reaching the site of the Fluxweed plants,   
explaining to Harry on the way that they are particularly sensitive to   
light which is why they dwelled in the deeper parts of the forest and   
needed harvesting at night. He demonstrated to Harry the proper method   
of digging up the plant at the roots so as to not cause a shock to its   
system which would have an effect on the potion they were added to.   
Once Harry was occupied with the task of digging carefully amongst the   
old and roughened roots of the nearby trees for the plants, Severus   
went to search for another clump of Fluxweed near to the site of the   
original.  
  
After Severus found another site for digging not too far off, he   
returned to find Harry to be humming quietly as he worked. Severus   
found it somewhat annoying, but more importantly such noises were   
notorious for attracting the beasts of the wood. Readying himself to   
take Harry to task, Severus scowled and stepped out from behind the   
tree separating him from the boy.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The creature heard the humming from a distance, and at first it was   
uncertain as to whether the humming might be a sprite or other   
mischievous creature which drew creatures to their dooms by the sound   
of their voice. Cocking its head, the creature considered the sound   
and guessed against a supernatural nature as it felt no compulsions.   
Instead, it decided to follow the sound of its own volition and   
investigate.  
  
Slowly, the large form pushed through the lower branches of a stand of   
pine trees in order to keep its sound to a minimum, padding afterwards   
under cover of the surrounding darkness, its curiosity growing.  
  
Something ... seemed familiar about the sound and the accompanying   
scent, and its original purpose was forgotten for the moment at the   
intrigue of this puzzle. What its nose was telling it just couldn't be   
true. Twilight lengthened the shadows, and the beast blinked as its   
eyes adjusted further to the very minimal light available from the   
sunken sun.  
  
A boy. There was a boy digging in the earth near the roots of a few   
large trees, and the boy was humming the tune. A basket rested just at   
his side, and the boy carefully placed whatever he was digging up into   
that basket, arranging it carefully before beginning the process   
again.  
  
Harry? The large black grimm of a dog sniffed the air, disbelieving of   
what the scents told him. But it wasn't an illusion. The dog padded   
closer to the sight of his godson happily digging something from the   
ground.  
  
The scene became more of a nightmare as suddenly a tall, dark form   
loomed over the oblivious Harry, casting shadows behind it like the   
specter of Death. Worse, the dog thought. Snape, scowling as he snuck   
up behind Harry, obviously intent upon doing him harm!  
  
The dog that was Sirius Black growled and barked as he ran at Snape's   
form, tackling the ghoulish specter bodily against the tree behind him   
and pinning him there. Snarling, Sirius bared his teeth at Snape and   
was very surprised at the lack of response as Snape slumped in his   
grasp, deadweight.   
  
Uncertain whether this was a feint of Snape's to get free, Sirius   
transformed from his animagus form in order to get a better grasp on   
Snape's robes. As he focused upon the other man, Sirius faintly heard   
protests from Harry, but disregarded them for the moment to   
concentrate upon the present danger before him. "Snape," he growled,   
"What were you doing?" Sirius gave Snape a shake to encourage him to   
drop the act and speak, but got no response. Snape's greasy hair hung   
in front of his face, his head lolling bonelessly. Finally, Sirius   
turned to check if Harry was all right, especially as he was tugging   
at Sirius' arm.   
  
"Put him down, Sirius," Harry protested, "You've hurt him, and I don't   
think he's fully healed from last time." Harry didn't seem to be   
harmed, just upset, Sirius decided. Understandable since it seemed he   
was forced out into the Forbidden Forest of all places by the Greasy   
Git. Getting angrier at the thought of Harry's imagined abuse, Sirius   
shook the unresponsive man again to wake him from his nap. When that   
didn't do any good, he lifted and slung the other man over one   
shoulder despite Harry's further displays of frustration and growing   
anger. Harry wanted to get out of the forest, Sirius was sure.  
  
"C'mon Harry," Sirius commanded, not caring when Snape's dangling head   
and arms made rough contact with the nearby tree again, "Let's get out   
of here and get you safely in Hogwarts."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Harry had never felt this sheer amount of frustration. His anger at   
Severus' treatment wanted to be unleashed against the one who did him   
harm, but the fact it was his Godfather, Sirius, kept it restrained.   
Severus had made an aborted sound when his head made sharp contact   
against the old tree, and Harry feared for his previous concussion   
being exacerbated by the new injury. The frustration soared to new   
heights when his efforts to get to Severus and to explain to Sirius   
that things weren't what they seemed proved fruitless. At least Sirius   
was taking them back to Hogwarts now; perhaps Harry could get Sirius   
to take Severus to the Hospital Ward. Sirius himself looked like he   
could use a bit of rest there. That and some food.  
  
Having snatched up the basket of Fluxweed before Sirius could get too   
far, Harry was well positioned to try and sneak up behind Sirius, to   
try and touch Severus' dangling form. The weak aura flickers from him   
made Harry feel almost nauseous in sympathy. But before Harry could   
touch him, Severus was swung away from Harry as Sirius turned in   
mid-stride to look at him. "You've grown some," Sirius commented   
warmly as his gaze traveled over him measuringly. Seemingly satisfied   
as to his condition, Sirius turned to continue the trip to Hogwarts.   
Conversationally, he continued to look at Harry as he walked, "You're   
all right? Snape didn't do anything to you, did he? What are you doing   
here in the Forbidden Forest- or for that matter, here at Hogwarts?   
Not that I'm complaining any, I'm glad to see you here and away from   
those Muggle relatives of yours. Lucky to have run into you, too; I've   
come back to report to Headmaster Dumbledore. He'd had me sniffing   
around a bit," he finished with a wry grin.  
  
Once the rambling monologue concluded, Harry tried to reiterate his   
earlier protests while making an effort to touch Severus without   
Sirius noticing. "He wasn't trying to hurt me, Sirius. I was helping   
him harvest some Fluxweed for a potion. Sev- Professor Snape brought   
me here when I was abandoned in America by the Dursleys-"  
  
"Abandoned?" Sirius exclaimed, halting again as his temper climbed   
once more. "By the Dursleys? Likely Snape was sent by Voldemort to   
come and get you, but got waylaid by the Headmaster." The glance   
Sirius cast at Harry was faintly puzzled, perhaps from Harry's slip on   
Severus' name.  
  
Harry was about to continue when his thoughts brought him up short.   
Severus certainly had been waylaid. But it was harm caused by the   
Death Eaters and Voldemort himself. Frowning, he went on while he had   
Sirius' attention. "I think Voldemort bribed them to leave me there.   
But Professor Snape found me before the Death Eater did; Dumbledore   
sent him." Harry hesitated at that small rearrangement of the facts in   
guilt but went on. "He'd been hurt though- hit on his head badly. It   
took us a while to get out of America and back here; Dumbledore sent   
us a Portkey. We've been here a few days, recovering."  
  
"Well, we'll see that you never get sent back to those muggles again,"   
Sirius growled. "I'll ask the Headmaster if he could help me get a   
hidden house set up, and you can come there for the rest of the   
holidays and during Winter Break as well. That is," he added with a   
touch of apology, "If the Headmaster doesn't need me during those   
times."  
  
And so, on top of his worries about the rents in Severus' pained aura,   
Harry found he now had to decide whether he should let the proverbial   
cat out of the bag, or be torn by the necessity of hoping that Sirius   
would be on dangerous missions.  
  
It was enough to make him tear his hair out. 


	44. Blacks and Potters and Snapes, oh my!

A/N: I think I'm going a bit darker as to Severus' past and bringing more hints up as to the effect of it upon our favorite cranky Potions master. Sorry it's a bit late, but I'm hoping that the content will make up for it.  
  
Thank you as always for reading and reviewing; I long for lots of notes telling me what people think of the story and if they have any particular ideas about it so much the better!  
  
I extend visitation rights to my Live Journal for those people interested in the occasional bit of blathering I do about my story. Comments are certainly welcome there as well.  
http://www.livejournal.com/users/athenakt/  
  
Disclaimers apply as always.  
  
------------------------------------------  
  
Chapter 44  
  
Harry was still wracking his brains for a solution by the time Sirius had led Harry back to the steps of Hogwarts, cheerfully expanding upon ideas he was having on future arrangements and the things he and Harry could do together. Ordinarily, Harry would have been ecstatic at the idea but at the moment he was caught in the spiral of frustration and worry over the still unconscious Severus slung over Sirius' shoulder. The fact that Sirius wasn't exactly being careful with him probably wasn't going to help Severus' condition; Sirius could have easily cast a Mobilus Corpus or conjured a stretcher if he had his wand with him.  
  
It was when they started climbing the steps that put Harry into shock. Trailing behind in yet another attempt to covertly make contact with Severus and heal him at least minimally, Harry saw drops of blood which hadn't been there before. Once the impact passed, Harry determinedly caught up with Sirius and tried to steady Severus' body so it didn't move so much with Sirius' strides.  
  
Feeling Harry behind him, Sirius looked at what he was doing and waved him away, "I can handle Snape, Harry. He's not a heavyweight, and I'm stronger than I look," he noted with a grin. "Let's go find Albus."  
  
Uneasy from what he'd just felt from Severus, Harry appealed to Sirius' nature - at least that which he'd been able to get to know during the short amount of time Harry had been able to spend time with him. He figured that he must be right about him because the only reason he could think of for carrying Severus the way he was would be if Sirius wanted to show off to his godson. "Sirius, couldn't we drop Professor Snape off at the hospital wing before we go? Maybe the Headmaster will let me stay while you make your report and we could have some tea and biscuits."  
  
"Hmm, I dunno." Sirius regarded what he could see of Severus with suspicion, "I wanted to find out just what he wanted with you out in the Forbidden forest like that. The Headmaster should know about this."  
  
With a touch of irritation, Harry sighed, "The Headmaster /did/ know about this; Professor Snape told him during lunch."  
  
"He did, did he?" Sirius readjusted Severus' body with a slight jostle. "Well then, I suppose we can ... drop him off," he allowed with a smirk.  
  
"Carefully," Harry warned, and his tone of voice made Sirius give him another of his puzzled stares. For the first time since the summer, Harry was relieved to see Dumbledore come into view, rounding the corner on a path that intersected their own.  
  
Concerned at the sight of Severus being carried over Sirius' shoulder, Dumbledore exclaimed, "Sirius, what in Merlin's name happened to Severus?" It occurred then to Harry to wonder whether Dumbledore had ever changed his behavior towards the Golden Boys of Gryffindor. It seemed as though it didn't even occur to Dumbledore that Sirius was the one who had happened to Severus, even despite the long-time grudge between the two.  
  
"Ah, he fell back too hard against a tree when I came up to him," Sirius hedged. "Hit his head on it, looks like. I was taking him to the Hospital Wing before coming to give you my report, Albus." Sirius looked very much the hopeful youngster caught in an adult's body as he smiled up at the Headmaster.  
  
Dumbledore shooed Sirius on to proceed ahead, "Well, let's get him there, Sirius. We'll talk in a while once he's seen to."  
  
* * * * *  
  
//"Severus... Merlin- sit down boy. Here, let me help you; you'll be all right. ... You'll be just fine."  
  
In the Headmaster's office, Severus was shaking his head in negation, in denial, trembling as he found himself suddenly sitting. It was all a lie. Father joined Voldemort because of lies and falsehoods. His brain was trying to accept Dumbledore's assurances, but his heart was clenching in pain.  
  
Voldemort had sent a Death Eater to kill his mother. A muggle was given the blame for the deed and killed for it. Voldemort had manipulated his Father and himself, and now his Father was paying for it in Azkaban.  
  
The Ministry would not allow both Severus and his Father to be spoken for by Dumbledore, to free both men who bore the Dark Mark on their arms. The Ministry had their culprits, and wanted to keep them. It was only through Headmaster Dumbledore's intervention that he was released from Azkaban at all, kept safe by the Headmaster's promises and bargains with the Minister of Magic.  
  
Severus wished his Father could be the one released instead of him. He wanted to cease to exist; he couldn't stand the thought of his Father being slowly destroyed, that brilliant mind eaten away by the Dementors.  
  
"Take a sip of this, Severus ... Slowly ... Yes, that's right."  
  
He remembered how it felt; insubstantial fingers reaching into his thoughts and tearing them from him. How he was helplessly plunged into the worst memories of his life, re-experiencing his guilt and horror. How he saw gaping holes being rent in his memory ... how it almost felt as though those holes had been there for years already, numb and shadowed, hard to see.  
  
"Take a deep breath, Severus. Calm down, my boy. Good. Another..."  
  
How the thoughts newly torn away left ragged edges of pain and void, sharply contrasted darkness against that which remained. How those dark holes seemed to drip like blood running from the edges-//  
--  
"Severus? Wake up, my boy."  
--consciousness--tearingthrustawakeopeneyes--  
  
Opening his eyes against his will to the almost blindingly white walls, Severus groaned in sudden pain and nausea as they overwhelmed him. The first person he was able to focus upon was Dumbledore who was sitting in a chair at the side of his bed.  
  
At first Severus thought he was still in the Headmaster's office, his thoughts spiraling around the nightmarish vision from the past. He tried to curl in on himself as though doing so would also protect his mind from the Dementors haunting him, but catching a glimpse of Black off to one side only served to entrench the thought of Azkaban itself firmly upon Severus' confused mind. The sound of suffering screams and quiet whimpers of protest bubbled up in his memory and stayed there like the cloying odor of a failed potion experiment.  
  
Struggling to breathe past the knot of panic in his throat, Severus dimly heard something else that somehow seemed familiar, but he couldn't get a firm handle on it. His thought were scattered and unorganized, his eyes felt as though they were being stabbed with daggers made of bright light and his head throbbed unbearably, distracting him further. He closed his eyes.  
  
"I'll get Madam Pomfrey," The Voice said before the sound of rapidly pattering feet echoed far too loudly for his comfort.  
  
"Stay here afterwards, Harry. Sirius and I will join you in the Great Hall for a late dinner once we've finished speaking," the Headmaster called after The Voice which replied an affirmation from a distance.  
  
Severus jumped in startlement when he felt the warmth of a hand soft with age but tingling with power settle upon the back of his neck. He could feel himself trembling still as he tried to reconcile thoughts with reality; Dumbledore must be visiting him in Azkaban. But ... the bed was soft and clean, as was the air. The prison was dark and cold, and this place was anything but. A visitor's room, perhaps? No- Dumbledore had visited him before. He remembered it; he'd asked if he could see his Father and he hadn't been able to. He'd been taken back to his cell when Dumbledore left. The visitor's room was cleaner, but it wasn't warm or bright like this room. The light glowed on the other side of his eyelids.  
  
His voice, when he tried to use it, was raspy but surprisingly didn't pain Severus as he expected it would. It would only be logical for speaking to hurt when he'd either refrained from speaking for weeks on end, alternated with weeks during which he'd screamed in pain during his ... special treatments. "Where ... where are we?"  
  
Severus thought he heard Black snort at his words, but the Dumbledore-hand only soothed at the back of his neck. Fleetingly, he thought that it felt nice. Dumbledore's words were nice as well; he said, "We're in the Hospital Ward, Severus. You've had a nasty bump on the head, I'm afraid."  
  
It was an effort to decide what was real, now. His heart was trying to escape his ribcage. His scattered memories were telling him he was in Azkaban, but Dumbledore said otherwise and he felt compelled to believe him but his memories his thoughts azkaban dementors father thoughts rippingbeingripped-  
  
"She's coming, Headmaster. She's just gathering a few potions."  
  
The Voice. Clear. Ringing. The Voice was not in Azkaban. It was ... in Hogwarts.  
  
"We'll be going now, Severus. Get some rest, now."  
  
Sleepy ... He was so sleepy, the weight dragging him down. But he wanted to see The Voice. He heard the rustling of robes as someone-Dumbledore? got up from his chair and moved away. Voices lowered to a murmur as they consulted. A door opened and closed.  
  
A moment passed, and then, "Severus," The Voice whispered with concern, "Are you awake?"  
  
Yes. He was ... sort of ... but he wasn't supposed to be. Get some rest, now. Get some rest. But, The Voice. He opened his eyes.  
  
Harry. 


	45. Healing and Hegemony

A/N: Ha! I've written a chapter early and it's on the high end of my average lengths. That makes me feel a little less guilty for being someone who adores loooooooooooong story chapters when it comes to stories written by others.  
  
http://www.livejournal.com/users/athenakt/ - Live it, Love it! I got a comment there which made me happy. ;) Thank you for reading and reviewing, wherever you may do so.  
  
Disclaimers apply as always.  
  
----------------------------  
  
Chapter 45  
  
Severus' unfocused gaze tried to settle itself upon Harry as sleep continued to drag at him. "... infernal ... humming ... idiot ... forest ... beasts," he managed to utter, the effort quickly draining him of energy and forcing his eyes to close again. He curled further on his side.  
  
Harry's voice came to him, amused but concerned. "We're not in the Forbidden Forest anymore, Severus." The amusement became guilt as it continued, "I did seem to attract something from the forest, though. I'm sorry."  
  
A hesitant hand brushed against Severus' shoulder and he gasped at the sheer warmth in the brief contact. Straining himself, Severus tried to move forward to regain the warmth. He heard a soft pained noise as he did so and he vaguely realized that it came from himself.  
  
"Shhh, quiet down, Severus," Harry's voice cautioned. "I just want to give them a few more moments to get further from the Hospital Wing." That hand settled upon his shoulder again and he found himself relaxing; his nausea, pain and confusion slowly retreating into the background in the face of the warmth seeping into him through that one place where he was being touched. Balanced on the edge of consciousness, afraid of losing that energizing contact, Severus kept utterly still apart from opening his eyes.  
  
Harry was cautiously looking towards the door, his brow furrowed, one hand resting upon Severus. A few moments later Harry relaxed minimally and turned to look down at him, smiling apologetically and with relief. "You'll be all right," he said, seemingly a promise as much to himself as to Severus. His free hand carefully moved towards the back of Severus' head and Harry winced as he looked at something there. "You'll be okay," he insisted again before gently cradling the back of Severus' head with his hand.  
  
Overwhelmed, Severus felt himself pushed over the edge and into unconsciousness.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Harry grew alarmed when Severus' black eyes rolled and then shut the moment he touched the back of his head. Madame Pomfrey had healed the wound itself but it was still swollen and tender- still, Harry knew he'd been careful not to press at Severus' head too much. When Harry started to feel his fingers tingle, he hoped that the unconsciousness was due to relief, not pain.  
  
Craning his head for a better look where he sat, Harry was glad to see the amount of pain and darkness in the aura around Severus' head was slowly ebbing around his fingers. The faint tinge of green to Severus' features were also fading into the paleness of shock, but the potion that Pomfrey had first given Severus upon his arrival in the Hospital Ward would see to that.  
  
Settling into his chair, Harry turned his concentration upon the older wizard, willing healing energies to transfer themselves into him, willing Severus to heal, broadcasting his affection to the man he had hated the previous year.  
  
After some time, when Harry straightened a little to concentrate upon Severus' aura again, he noticed that at the outer edges it was limned with lighter colors that were seeping inwards into Severus', making colors of pain pale and lessen, fear and dark memories faded and were soothed. Harry even noticed some faint glittering that floated upon the surface of the lighter colors near his head, as though it were oil on water. Curious, Harry briefly moved his hand from Severus' shoulder, carefully keeping his other on the back of his head, and reached to brush at the sparkles.  
  
Dumbledore.  
  
Harry frowned, irritated. How much had Dumbledore interfered with Severus' life in the past? Was he intending to continue to do so? Should Harry be concerned about himself as well? He decided to have Severus take a look at his aura for the sparkles once it was his turn at possession of the aura Sight.  
  
When he settled his hand back upon Severus' shoulder, Harry was still angry with Dumbledore. Absently he ran his fingers over his upper arm in a restless attempt at soothing both the unconscious man as well as himself, but his thoughts worked against him. When he and Severus got back to Hogwarts via the portkey, Dumbledore saw Severus when he was mostly healed. Harry wondered if there had been occasion for Dumbledore to see Severus when he was hurt. If he'd come back from spying on Voldemort like this or worse. And Dumbledore had known it, yet asked Severus to continue spying.   
  
Harry's anger grew until he felt a restless shifting under his hands along with a quiet whimper of protest. Looking down at Severus, Harry was shocked and dismayed to see the light around the aura's edges had faded back to darkness and Severus' pallor had paled further.   
  
Cursing himself, Harry quickly drew his hands back and breathed deeply, desperately trying to calm himself. Forcefully he turned his thoughts away from Dumbledore and searched for something more pleasant to focus upon. Another weak protest and hesitant movements came from Severus as he seemed to be caught between wanting the contact and fearing it. With a sigh, Harry replaced his hands.  
  
Harry's frustration with Sirius didn't help improve his mood, so instead he thought about flying. One of the more silent grudges that Harry held against Draco Malfoy was how he'd distracted Harry during his first actual flying experience in favor of his efforts to get Neville's rememberall back. Harry never felt as free from all cares as he did when he became one with a broomstick in mid-air.  
  
Of course, the broomstick that Severus had brought with him when he'd come to retrieve Harry hadn't been anything approaching his Firebolt or even the Nimbus 2000. But he still remembered the broom flights with Severus with a certain amount of fondness. It was actually one of the rare occasions in which he flew with someone else rather than going solo.   
  
The experience itself wasn't pleasant out of being comfortable with Severus; on the contrary, at the time they'd been experiencing ... well, problems. Even now they weren't entirely at ease with each other, although the difficulty was more on Severus' side than Harry's. But what was pleasant was how well they'd been able to work together, how smoothly the flight went. There was none of the tug-of-war from the disagreement of direction or the unintentional leaning-the-wrong-way that one usually experiences with paired flying.  
  
Harry spent some time in recollection of the trip across New York to the coastline, remembering the scenery, the wind, and how wonderful it felt to be on a broom again- even if he wasn't pushing the broom and himself beyond the limits by doing acrobatics.  
  
Thankfully, the next time he checked Severus' aura it was continuing its path back to normality and lined once more by the paler shades of his healing.  
  
* * * * *  
  
//Questions. A concerned voice. Other more youthful voices rising in protest. The first voice sounded stern and resolute. Vaguely he became aware of movement as the youthful voices left. A pair of worried blue eyes came into view.  
  
Dumbledore.  
  
"Severus ... Severus, my boy." A hand settled on his shoulder. "Come back now... Come and talk to me."  
  
Only briefly was he drawn from within his quiescent thoughts before settling down again, like sand briefly stirred up only to settle once more upon the ocean's bottom. He was mired too deeply in the puzzle, the inconsistencies, the sheer wrongness he sensed in the back of his mind.  
  
The hand squeezed Severus' shoulder, and he felt the tingle of restrained magic; a huge potential of energy laying in wait. "Severus. I know it's difficult, but you must try." Dumbledore called to him from the immeasurable distance of inches. The power tingled through him, stirring the sand from an outside influence this time. "Reach ... Come here."  
  
Severus took a long and breath, and found that he could finally lift his eyes of his own volition. Dumbledore's gaze met his and kept it, "Yes, there you are," he murmured. "Will you tell me what happened now, Severus?"  
  
Severus flinched inwardly, his eyes falling again to hover at some unknowing middle distance. The test was inconclusive to his mind. The werewolf, and James conveniently there. The test itself seemed somehow inconsistent. A reason rather than a purpose. A wrongness that he couldn't resolve.  
  
"Oh, dear," Dumbledore murmured. With a sigh, he settled his free hand upon Severus' other shoulder. "come now, Severus. Reach, and I'll help. We'll sort you out soon."  
  
A pause, and Severus felt suddenly breathless as though unexpectedly lifted several hundred feet in the space of a moment. He heard Dumbledore again as things faded to black, "... Oh, my."  
  
Later on, Severus opened his eyes to found himself back in the Slytherin dormitories, Lucius seated on the edge of his bunk even as he was curled there on his side. "Severus? What's happened to you?" Lucius inquired, his customarily clear grey eyes now clouded with puzzlement. Perhaps even concern.  
  
Severus recalled that he couldn't speak of that night's events. Dumbledore had required his oath on that. He couldn't find the energy nor the desire to speak at the moment anyhow, so he just shook his head and rested on his bunk, staring at nothing in particular. He felt deadened of will and desire.  
  
Lucius stared at him speculatively for some moments before rising to his feet. He paced a few times in the space nearby before coming to a decision. "Have it your way. For now, Severus." Returning to his own bed, Lucius took up his Charms textbook and started revising, although not without distraction as he glanced at Severus from time to time. Lucius knew when to let well enough alone, when pushing an issue with Severus would only result in less cooperation in future endeavors.  
  
Lucius asked after his health again before bed, and Severus couldn't find it in him to speak then, either. Dully, he heard himself reply, "Let me be, please." That politeness was enough to startle Lucius into doing so although Severus could almost feel Lucius' gaze upon him from across the dormitory even after the lights were put out and everyone else had fallen asleep.  
  
In his dreams, Severus heard the whisper of spell words. He shivered.// 


	46. Depression and Declaimations

A/N: Sorry this is a little late and a little shorter than usual. RL conspiring against me and won this time around. I've got definite events coming in the next few chapters, so you can look forward to some actual *gasp* plot advancement.  
  
http://www.livejournal.com/users/athenakt/ - Live it, Love it! Believe it- I appreciate, read and cherish those comments. ;) Thank you for reading and reviewing, wherever you may do so.  
  
Disclaimers apply as always.  
  
Chapter 46  
  
Harry felt Severus shiver and then stir, his first signs of waking up during the time Harry been working on healing him. "Imperio," Severus muttered, sluggishly raising one hand and hiding his face behind its scarce cover.  
  
Moving his hand from Severus' shoulder, Harry furrowed his brow with concern at the word and the ideas it sparked. He tried soothing Severus' arm in an effort to encourage him to awaken further. "Good evening, Severus," Harry managed with a smile should Severus look at him. "Feeling better?"  
  
"Harry," Severus murmured from behind his hand, not entirely without confusion, but not without warmth either. "What's happened?" The hand was lowered, and black eyes raised to meet with green.  
  
"We had a bit of an encounter out in the Forbidden Forest while we were gathering the Fluxweed. I think that Sirius heard me humming when he was coming through the forest on the way to report to Dumbledore. He must've seen you behind me and ... well, he attacked," he muttered, feeling horrible about the occasion, unable to meet Severus' gaze again. "He tackled you against a tree and you hit your head badly; knocked you unconscious. We brought you here. He's with the Headmaster now." Overwhelmed with guilt, Harry was prepared to cringe at the first sound of anger or sarcasm.  
  
Severus' voice was carefully modulated as he awoke further. "I see."   
  
There was a longer pause as Severus either considered his next words, or prepared to explode. Harry was afraid to check his aura for the answer; he was afraid to know. He didn't want to have to deal with the clash between his Godfather and his ... friend? Harry sighed as depression started to dig its fingers into his flesh in earnest. Severus wasn't really a friend yet; he didn't quite trust Harry in kind. Some example of a Gryffindor he was; fearful and insecure.  
  
Knowing that there were reasons behind Severus' lack of trust in most anyone that Harry couldn't begin to guess, Harry slumped further, his worry and desolation starting to grow as he imagined Severus' rejection and harsh words being delivered in scathing tones at any moment. As more time passed in silence, Harry's guilt and depression continued to spiral, growing to encompass his awareness- when Severus finally spoke, he flinched, despite the deliberate quietness of tone.  
  
"Stop that Harry. You're obviously doing yourself harm as I seem to have just acquired the aura sight."  
  
Harry looked up in surprise and found that Severus was right about the aura; he wasn't able to see Severus' any longer. He quickly dropped his eyes again as he still didn't want to see Severus' expression; as a matter of fact, his growing depression seemed to be draining his energy and will to take action. No matter what he did or said, it just wouldn't matter. Severus and Sirius would always hate each other, and now Severus would hate him again, too.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Severus was at an increasing loss as to what to do about the boy who seemed to becoming mired in the throes of a black depression. More sternly, he said, "I told you to stop it, Harry. There is no call for you to beat on yourself like that." With a moment's inspiration, he added, "It's not your fault that Sirius did what he did."  
  
"Yes it is," Harry insisted wearily. "I was humming in the Forbidden Forest of all places. If I hadn't attracted Sirius' attention I would have gotten the attention of something even more unfriendly."  
  
"There's something more unfriendly?" Severus asked in a weak attempt at humor. It didn't seem to work as Harry's aura grew even darker with his negative emotions. "Harry. You're straining my eyes with the aura you've currently got on display." Now it swirled with even more guilt. "I can see that I'm going to have to work with you on your sense of humor as well as your potions skills tuition." With that Harry finally looked up at him, surprise briefly lightening the colors around the younger wizard.  
  
"You'd work with me?"  
  
"Consider it a duty to prevent the wizarding world from collapsing under your influence." Harry looked crestfallen and the surprise darkened to a sad resignation. Severus shook his head, "There goes that martyrdom of yours. Just like a true Gryffindor. A little time with my Slytherins should instill a few more rational impulses in you."  
  
Harry stirred enough to glance up doubtfully. "Slytherins?"  
  
Bracing himself up on his elbow, Severus smirked faintly, "You don't imagine that you are alone in receiving special treatment?" Severus couldn't help but feel a surge of bitter resentment as he mutters, "Someone has to care for the students of my house." Pausing long enough to compose himself back into neutrality, Severus added, "I offer them tuition and counsel them when needed. If you and I are to be ... linked in this manner, I will not cease seeing to the needs of my students. You will learn to deal with them. And they will learn to deal with you."  
  
This proclamation didn't seem to improve Harry's mood; if anything it blackened it further. With a sigh, Severus tried again. "Such interactions will be good for both you and them. I am all in favor of competition between houses, but the rivalry needs to be a controlled one or it will become an advantage for Voldemort and a crippling disadvantage for us. It would mean people who refuse to work together on the basis of the house they were in- even after graduating Hogwarts. It would also mean prejudice levied against certain people for the same reason, and for those people to feel they had no choice but to follow the only one who seemed to hold any sort of respect or concern for them. All students must have the freedom to make their choice on their own, and not be pushed to it."   
  
The words were hardly cheering, but Severus wasn't one for sweetness and light, and Harry was well aware of that. If the boy was maturing as quickly as he seemed to be, he should come to understand Severus' reasoning behind his words. To see the attempt he was making to treat him more like an equal. In order to reinforce the impression, Severus reached out with one hand and rested it firmly upon Harry's shoulder. As he was opening his mouth to speak again, an angry voice echoed across the ward.  
  
"Get your hands off my godson, Snape! What do you think you're doing?" Black tromped his way over in a rage, one hand already going for his wand. Being a practical man who tried to be rational even in the face of onrushing Blacks, Snape released Harry's shoulder and carefully drew his hand back to rest where it could be seen on the bed. With a mixture of irritation and a certain amount of foreboding, Severus noticed his wand sitting on the table next to his bed, precious feet away. It was Harry's turn to open his mouth as though to speak, only to be interrupted.  
  
"You will keep your voice down in my hospital ward, Mr. Black, or I will have you restrained and sedated!"  
  
There was nothing more intimidating or more powerful, Severus reflected, than the Hogwarts Mediwitch, Poppy Pomfrey, when she was acting to protect the patients in her care.  
  
Nothing at all like an enraged badger. 


	47. Offense and Defense

A/N: I've gotten reviews from a lot of people who don't like Sirius. I'll go into my views on him and my intents in my Live Journal. Mayhaps we can start up a discussion there. Mua-hahaha! Snape is my more favored subject (if you hadn't already guessed), but... anything to get some discussion going. ;) Just remember that I write from the perspectives of characters, usually Harry or Severus, so expect some bad views of 'Black' from Severus in how events are told...  
  
http://www.livejournal.com/users/athenakt/  
  
Thankyouthankyouthankyou all for your reviews; I especially enjoyed receiving those with involved commentary as they do influence my whirring thought process-ies (watch them whirrrrrr!)  
  
Sorry for the lateness, but I'm hoping once again that the increased length (yay!) and the content will make up for it. Plans and events are progressing further here as you can see from the chapter title and the content.  
  
Disclaimers apply as always.  
  
-------------------  
  
Chapter 47  
  
The sight of the smaller woman advancing threateningly upon Sirius Black was a sight that Severus would fondly cherish in the years to come. For not only was Black getting at least a little of his comeuppance, but just for once someone was standing in Severus' defense without asking for anything in return.  
  
"But-" Black sputtered in anger for some moments even as he retreated a few steps from the angered matron. Finally deciding it was unwise to confront the woman in her own territory, Black struggled to suppress his temper. "... I'm sorry, Madame Pomfrey; I didn't mean to yell. But Snape-" he growled as he transferred his glare upon Severus.  
  
"That doesn't matter," bristled Madame Pomfrey. "They are both patients of my ward, and you will refrain from such behavior if you wish to visit Mr. Potter. Otherwise you will have to wait outside until he is discharged from here."  
  
"Discharged?" Black bristled in return. "What do you mean discharged?" An accusing glare was leveraged upon Severus as he asked the nurse, "He wasn't hurt, was he?"  
  
"Not physically," Poppy growled softly, taking another step forward and forcing Black to concentrate upon her again to avoid a collision. "He's very stressed at the moment and needs some peace and quiet in order to rest. And that means no arguments or confrontations."  
  
Black looked about to open his mouth again to protest, but when he glanced over at Harry who in all this time had subsided again into a near-cringe at Black's anger, Black refrained and frowned with what might have been actual concern. Dumbledore twinkled in the background as Black slowly drew a breath and spoke a little more quietly, "Harry can come with me. We'll walk around a little in the fresh air... talk about old times and all."  
  
"Perhaps later on," Poppy firmly replied, "But not now. Go and let him rest. I'll send for some dinner which he will eat here."  
  
"Aw, come on, Poppy," Black whined with a more casual address now that Poppy's wrath seemed to have been discharged- for the moment. "He'll be better off having dinner in the hall than here with Snape sneering and glaring at him. Enough to ruin anyone's appetite."  
  
Severus, who had been watching Harry's aura slowly build to irritated anger with a distracted sort of fascination, wasn't entirely surprised when Harry suddenly burst into movement, tromping to the bathroom off of the ward in a fit of temper. Poppy looked a bit regretful, seemingly understanding the cause of Harry's departure. Black however looked after Harry without comprehension. He would have started to follow him but for Poppy's getting in his way again. Instead, he called, "Harry?" just before the boy entered the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. Black blinked and looked down at Poppy, "What's wrong?"  
  
Severus decided to take that opportunity to enlighten Black about his blind insensitivity. "Perhaps he simply doesn't appreciate being spoken about as though he isn't in the room, and as though he doesn't have any say in what his plans are," he sneered at Black.  
  
"And what do /you/ care, Snape? You don't look out for anyone but yourself," Black snarled.  
  
Not caring to dignify the accusation with a return argument, Severus was of the mind to turn away from Black and ignore him, but there was that flame of hatred burning in his chest that was always difficult to subdue when it came to encounters with him. He certainly wasn't about to turn his back on the other man, not trusting Black's restraint- even if Dumbledore /was/ standing just behind him.  
  
"Now now, my boy," Dumbledore murmured as he patted Black on the shoulder. "Let's go to the Great Hall for dinner; we still have much to discuss. Just give the boy some time; I'm sure you can come up to visit with Harry afterwards," he finished with a glance at Poppy who nodded in affirmation.  
  
Severus couldn't help but mutter, "Must he?", but thankfully Dumbledore must have decided that no good would come of further arguments as he steered Black out of the ward before Black could frame a cutting reply in return.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Harry felt a wash of relief, even through his depression, when he could no longer hear other voices. Between the conversation about him and his own inner thoughts he had felt overwhelmed and angry- almost embittered at how Sirius was behaving and what he had said about Severus. Not that he hadn't expected it, but hearing the amount of hatred in his voice had hurt... it almost felt as though it had been directed at him.  
  
Keeping the door to the bathroom firmly shut, Harry wandered over to the sink and washed his flushed face with cool water. It was then that he noticed dried traces of Severus' blood on his fingers from when he had been healing the older wizard. He bit his lower lip and set about washing his hands thoroughly.  
  
His stomach churning, Harry cast occasional glances at the door, brooding upon what was happening outside. Although he didn't entirely trust Dumbledore any longer, he knew that the Headmaster would keep Severus and Sirius from harming each other; he needed them both. And so did Harry.  
  
Making the short trip to the toilet, Harry lowered the cover and sat against the porcelain, thankful for its coolness as well as he closed his eyes wearily. He really didn't know if he'd be able to deal with the hostilities between the two now most prominent male figures in his life. Especially if he wound up becoming a weapon used against each other. To that end, he considered keeping the information regarding his newly forged link to Severus a secret. But then Sirius would have no reason to lay off of Severus apart from the truce that Dumbledore had asked of them at the ... the end of ... last year.  
  
Harry moved forward on his seat, letting his elbows rest on his knees and his hands drape down just before them. Scouring his mind, he tried to distract himself with ideas of what he could tell his Godfather to satisfy him regarding Severus. Probably nothing would completely satisfy him, but maybe something would at least help a little...  
  
* * * * *  
  
As the door closed behind Dumbledore and Black, Severus felt himself grow disoriented for a brief moment and he glanced towards the closed bathroom door. "Poppy," he murmured, suddenly resting fully back against his pillows. "... Harry."  
  
The nurse's eyes widened and she promptly went to the bathroom door. Likely she was checking whatever wards she might have on the area. Seemingly satisfied with what she saw, she calmly knocked on the door and gently called to the boy. Ah; that must mean the wards had told her he wasn't in physical danger...  
  
Severus watched as the bathroom door eventually opened with a quiet click and Harry peered hesitantly through the small space he had cleared. Maintaining his own calm, Severus blinked once and folded his hands loosely before him, subtly broadcasting the clue that the visitors were no longer present while Poppy took the opportunity to measure up how badly Harry was feeling. Severus had no such difficulty; thanks to the aura sight, he knew. He sighed.  
  
Likely this was going to take time and effort. There weren't any words to fix some problems; Severus knew this from seeing to his small horde of Slytherins. Harry would just have to learn and see for himself. Until then, treating Harry as normal would be the best thing for him.  
  
Well, perhaps not the customary 'normal', but this new sort of 'normal', Severus amended to himself as he politely nodded to Harry when the boy came to resume his seat next to his bed. After all, it seemed he had Harry to thank for healing him- again; he felt better than he had in some time now. Peace reigned for a time as they shared a quiet dinner.  
  
* * * * *  
  
As hoped for, dinner passed uneventfully apart from the soft and suffocating whirls of depressive blackness that tainted Harry's aura. Severus was released from the Hospital Ward after a thorough checkup by Poppy in the isolation ward, leaving Harry to his contemplations for a short time.  
  
Of course, it wasn't much of a surprise when Harry and Severus ran into Black again upon emerging from the corridor leading from the infirmary.  
  
Black had first smiled upon spotting Harry, an expression that Severus had rarely if ever seen upon the other wizard except for when he had been getting the better of Severus during their student days. That smile faded somewhat upon noticing Severus' presence but with notable effort on Black's part, it didn't fade altogether. Instead, Black focused his attention upon the boy before him. "Harry," he greeted. "Are you feeling better?"  
  
Surprisingly, Harry didn't respond immediately- as though he was studying Black to judge his mood. A moment later, Harry tried for a smile as well, although to Severus it was blatantly put there with his own show of effort; Harry's aura was as depressed as ever despite the addition of determination and a faint wisp of hope that was drowning in the darker sea. "Hello, Sirius. I'm much better, thank you."  
  
"Good," Black promptly replied. "Why don't you and I go take a walk. Or we can go to the room that Dumbledore's letting me use..."  
  
"I'm sorry, Sirius, but before we can do that there is something I need to get set straight with you," Harry murmured, his fingers unconsciously twisting themselves together with growing anxiety.  
  
"Sure, Harry," Black replied with a somewhat untrained attempt at encouragement. "But we can go and talk somewhere else, can't we?"  
  
Harry slowly shook his head, "No, Sirius. Right here and now. With Severus here as well."  
  
Black scowled as he moved his attention again to Severus. "Snape! You're behind this all! Harry's been acting strangely and Poppy and Albus-"  
  
"-Haven't let you have your way at every turn?" Severus interrupted. "Not like the way it was when we were students... Such a shame."  
  
The expression on Black's features put Severus in mind of the other wizard's animagus form, as did his snarl. "What were you doing with Harry in the Forbidden Forest?" he asked, ignoring Harry's rising protests.  
  
Maintaining his supportive position just behind and to one side of Harry, Severus allowed a smirk to take up residence. "I do believe that it is none of your business."  
  
"Damn straight it's my business," Black yelled. "I'm Harry's Godfather!"  
  
"And the boy has my condolences for that fact," Severus angrily returned. "He's had a difficult enough life without having to deal with you and your thoughtlessness, disregarding the consequences of your actions so long as it gets you what you want."  
  
With this, Black bellowed with anger and started to charge at Severus, thankfully angling to bypass Harry. Not wanting Harry to get in the way, Severus reached out a hand to push Harry aside, but he didn't count on Harry's stubborn protectiveness and the boy's own building anger.  
  
"STOP!" Harry yelled as he threw one hand outwards at Black. Suddenly Severus felt as though his very life was being drained through his hand and into Harry. Severus felt as though he was looking through a darkening tunnel as he watched Black being thrown against the far wall at the other end of the corridor. Then there was nothing as Severus crumpled to the floor and unconsciousness...  
  
-----------------  
  
A/N: Yes, another cliffhanger, and another trip to unconsciousness for Severus. But believe me, there /is/ a reason. 


	48. Power and Potions

A/N: Happy, happy turkey day, hunger pains will go away! *slaps self* - I give thanks for having readers like you all; I've gotten such wonderful reviews and comments this time around. Although no one has responded to my lengthy LiveJournal post regarding Sirius and Snape. *pouts mightily* I know that lots of people don't like reading LJ's about people's personal lives (myself included), but I only use it for expansions on my author's notes which are usually related to the story (not to mention the occasional juicy peek into future chapter topics). ;)  
http://www.livejournal.com/users/athenakt/  
  
Disclaimers apply as always.  
  
------------------------  
  
Chapter 48  
  
Harry gasped at the sheer amount of magic flowing through his fingers. It was the most amazing rush of power he had ever felt; as though his magic was multiplied and focused more than he'd ever thought possible and for a moment he reveled in how fantastic it felt. But then he came back to himself, saw what had just happened and felt time slow to a crawl.  
  
All the way down the hall, Harry could make out the motionless form of Sirius slumped against the wall. It was as he started to grow numb with mortification and shock that he vaguely remembered the nearby sound of something falling heavily to the floor. Something was there, leaned partially against his leg. Slowly, Harry turned and looked down at the untidy pile of robes and unconscious Potions master. Just as slowly, Harry felt his knees weaken and sent him next to the pale figure that was barely breathing. With his leftover impetus, Harry moved away to keep from touching Severus in fear that he would harm him further.  
  
As time seemed to speed back up to its normal progress, Harry heard a rustling of robes down the hallway, and a murmured, "Oh, my," as a white haired figure bent over the Sirius shape there. Harry couldn't bring himself to move or glance over as the numbness had spread throughout his mind while his entire body still echoed with that refreshing wash of magic. It thrummed along his nerves, sparkling with the energy he hadn't released from himself, even as his thoughts were starting to travel inwards, circular and unproductively repeating. 'One is the power while the other is the key...'  
  
* * * * *  
  
The next time Harry became aware of the outside world, he absorbed the sight of a worried Madame Pomfrey who was standing next to his bed, an empty potions vial in one hand, and noticed the taste of potion in his mouth. The hospital wing again. They hadn't made it down the hall before he had gotten himself and Severus into trouble again, this time including Sirius as well. Just great, he addressed to himself with the beginnings of self-loathing.  
  
"Ah, good," Madame Pomfrey smiled gently, bending to check his eyes and pulse. "Rest there a moment while I gather a few more potions, Mr. Potter. Your Godfather and Professor Snape are both going to be all right, but they just need a little help." As she bustled off to her room in the back, Harry noticed the increased lighting in the ward. Puzzled, he lifted his gaze to one of the windows. Daylight. It must be the next day at the very least.  
  
When Madame Pomfrey returned with a small rack of vials, she helped Harry to his feet, giving him a pair of slippers to wear and handing him one of the vials after making sure Harry was strong enough to walk. "Give Severus this; it's an energy potion. Now that he's stable, between the potion and your healing he should recover quickly." Escorting Harry to Severus' bedside, she drew a chair close by so that Harry could sit down.  
  
Not wanting to look at Severus for fear of proving what he'd done to him, Harry instead studied the potion vial. It did indeed look like some sort of energy potion as he recognized one of the more colorful ingredients suspended in the liquid. Harry reminded himself that he needed to give Severus the potion now, but he couldn't bring himself to look up, or to reach out and touch the older wizard. Instead, he sat there until he heard Madame Pomfrey call to him, "Mr. Potter, is there a problem?"  
  
Harry slowly glanced over at Pomfrey who had just finished giving Sirius his potions and was smoothing his covers into order as Sirius sighed quietly and curled onto his side, sleeping now. "Have you given Professor Snape the potion?" the Matron gently coaxed, apparently well able to see that the vial was still full. That concern had reappeared as she awaited his reply or any indication that Harry was aware and able to comply. He didn't want to worry Madame Pomfrey, but the only movement he found himself easily able to perform was to scoot his chair safely away from Severus whom he still couldn't make himself look at.  
  
"What's wrong, Harry?" Madame Pomfrey asked as she slowly made her way over to him. Kneeling at Harry's side, she murmured a quiet command to Harry's chair which promptly let off a soft diagnostic glow, assuring her that Harry wasn't in any physical distress. He'd been finding more and more that it paid to pay attention in classes...  
  
"I ... can't touch him," Harry managed to mutter, pressing himself carefully against the back of the chair. "I don't want to hurt him or Sirius again."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Cold.  
  
So cold ... tired ...   
  
He sensed that he had a body, and it ached. Blood flowed sluggishly, but it flowed. Air moved in and out of lungs. A heart beat steadily under careful watch of what felt like the diagnosis charms of a medi-witch.  
  
The taste of foxglove and other herbs called to mind the potions he had been given. But although his body functioned ... he was so cold ... so drained.  
  
The warmth of his magic was reduced to the smallest of flames, kept alight for the moment but in dire need of ... warmth. He ached so...  
  
He thought there might be warmth close by. Close but not there. Not touching. The warmth called to him; it was near and he needed it. He was submerged in the cold and couldn't move- hadn't even thought of moving until now.  
  
He tried to surface, to find the warmth.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Touching him won't hurt either of them, Harry," the nurse tried to assure him. "Remember that you share a gift with Severus now, and that you can heal each other."  
  
Harry bit his lip, shaking his head with grief and guilt. "I hurt them both," he muttered in an effort to keep his voice from cracking. "I didn't think- I just acted. And I drained Severus of his power and used it to hurt Sirius. ... and the power felt so ... amazing."  
  
"Well now," a weak voice rasped from the bed, "I didn't get to ... do that directly ... but I can ... celebrate ... that it was my power ... throwing him against the wall." Surprised, Harry found his gaze met by black eyes that were barely opened. Surrounding Severus were pale wisps of an aura, but nothing he saw was in the least accusatory. A bit wary, perhaps, but that was entirely understandable, considering.   
  
Harry remained unmoving, both because he didn't want to cause Severus further unease, and because he still was unable to make himself reach towards him, even with the renewed urgings from Severus' aura. Harry tried to resist the near-to-siren call which insisted that he do something to bring the aura back to normal, to see silken hints of darkness veiled behind a deliberate calm rather than this faint copy of his teacher's inner self.  
  
Feeling his hand shake at his thoughts, Harry tried lifting it and was able to do so. Putting the sealed vial of potion on the bedside table, he could sense his muscles tightening in protest when he pressed his hand forward towards Severus' arm, the tremor increased just before contact.  
  
When Harry's hand touched, the tingling and numbing sensation of the healing washed over him and he gasped in relief. An echo of his gasp came from the faintly trembling body on the bunk next to him, and Severus' eyes closed again. Worried and uneasy, Harry found it much easier to reach with his other hand and got the sensation of closing the connection; it felt much more stable ... right to do it this way. The way that Severus' further relaxed under his hands seemed to confirm that as well. Severus was shifted briefly as Pomfrey retrieved the vial of energy potion and administered it to him.  
  
Time seemed to change again as Harry concentrated upon Severus' welfare; he became less aware of what was going on around him. Slowly Severus' aura began to fill in with color, although at the moment it was muddled- as though it were sand being stirred up in dark and cold waters. Harry was further relieved to see the whole of the aura was limned by the paler colors of healing he'd seen before, and he tried to keep his thoughts at least neutral in tone. He couldn't bring them to be actively encouraging due to the load of guilt and self hatred he was experiencing and trying to keep from Severus.  
  
A while later, he heard quiet talking and sensed movement nearby. A curtained partition was being wheeled around Severus' bunk and his chair. The voices of Madame Pomfrey and Dumbledore murmured in the background. From the words he was able to vaguely interpret, it had been Dumbledore who found and brought the three of them to the Hospital Ward over fifteen hours ago now. Poppy was insisting that Harry take a meal in the ward, sending Dumbledore down to the kitchens to make the arrangements even though the Headmaster was full well able to do so from wherever he wished to. Harry felt a fleeting gratitude towards the nurse for sending him away, but he also couldn't help but feel a fainter gratitude towards the Headmaster for knowing when to leave.  
  
Harry jumped in surprise when Severus spoke again, his voice quiet but much steadier than before. "Lucius' potion." 


	49. Bubble, Bubble

A/N: Another hard week, especially with my minimal source of Internet access outside of work becoming non-functional. Fortunately for me, I'm going to Disney this weekend with my husband for our first wedding anniversary, so I've got something to look forward to. I've worked on getting this uploaded before I left tomorrow morning.   
  
We're topping 80,000 words now, and it's all because of the reviews that I'm motivated to continue. As always, I'm always enthralled when I get reviews from you guys, and I thank you for taking the time to send them to me. And don't forget:  
http://www.livejournal.com/users/athenakt/  
  
Disclaimers apply as always.  
  
-----------------------------------  
  
Chapter 49  
  
"Lucius' potion?" Harry queried, his mind still quagmired in his efforts at concentrating his thoughts and restraining his negative emotions.  
  
Severus' eyes slipped closed again for a moment before focusing upon Harry, his voice tinged with weariness and frustration. "The potion we started before going into the Forbidden Forest, you dolt," he prompted with increasing urgency despite his depleted energy. "Was that just last night? How long have we been here?"  
  
"It was last night, I think." Keeping his hands positioned to heal Severus, Harry craned his head to call, "Madame Pomfrey? How long have we been here?"  
  
The nurse's voice wasn't too distant, coming again from across the room by Sirius' bunk. "You came in from the Forbidden Forest last night, Mr. Potter." Her tone, as calm as ever, held no anger for her newest patient, instead containing the carefully moderated warmth she gave to all those under her care.  
  
"I need to finish the potion before it's delayed any further," Severus managed to lift his head from the pillow, but it was obvious that he wouldn't be walking easily on his own yet.  
  
Apparently Madame Pomfrey knew Severus well as she spoke again without seeing him through their curtained partition, "Lie back down, Severus. You're not going anywhere for the moment. Not until we get you back up to acceptable levels of energy."   
  
Severus scowled in her direction without settling back down. "It's important; the potion needs to maintain constant heat throughout the brewing process, and it's been on its own for long enough. We need to add the Fluxweed as soon as possible." Suddenly swiveling his head, Severus' eyes widened. "You do have the Fluxweed, do you not?"  
  
Quickly Harry raised his hands in a calming gesture, "I brought it with me. The basket's over there," he added, indicating the basket resting in Madame Pomfrey's storage shelves which were charmed to protect its contents.  
  
"Help me get up, Harry," Severus muttered as he started to wearily brace one arm on the bunk to push himself to sit. "It is quite possible that Lucius will be called tonight, or might have been called last night. He'll need the potion to recover."  
  
Gently, Harry kept his hands where they were to press Severus back down to rest. It ran through his head to comment on how much he thought the elder Malfoy deserved a bit of pain to teach him how to treat others. However, he remembered the warmth and concern veiled in the floo conversation between him and Severus. From Severus' behavior now, those emotions didn't seem to be faked during the conversation- at least on Severus' part. Harry kept his thoughts to himself, again trying to prevent them from growing any darker, and worked on soothing the restless teacher. "If you don't rest now, you'll probably be paying for it later. And you won't have the energy you need to brew."  
  
"Spoken like a true mediwitch, Mr. Potter," Madame Pomfrey called in. "You have the potential for a career in the healing arts with that bedside manner."  
  
Severus' expression darkened again, but he stayed still under Harry's hands. "What is taking so long?" he irritably asked. "If this happened last night, you've been ... healing me since then?"  
  
Harry squirmed uncomfortably for a moment. "... No," he hedged. "Just for a few hours now, I think."  
  
Frowning, Severus peered up at Harry as though trying to see into his brain. "You're not hurt, are you?" Without the aura sight, Severus certainly couldn't see as much as Harry was able to. Thinking of that, Harry reluctantly put the sight to use to check on Severus' condition. Still weak but not as badly as he had been before. Irritated and frustrated- not surprising. Buried under that- concern? Worry? Obviously for Malfoy's possible condition, Harry decided. "No, I wasn't hurt like you and Sirius were."  
  
Staring for some moments longer, Severus suddenly gave a shark-like smile. "Good. Then you can help me down to my lab. You can heal me just as well there, and I can oversee the potion while you add the fluxweed."  
  
Harry's mouth gaped open in preparation to protest, but he couldn't immediately find a response to that.  
  
It was then that the capable mediwitch came to his rescue again. "You can leave the hospital wing when you are able to walk out on your own two feet, Severus. There is a reason why there isn't a floo connection from here to your laboratory, you must realize."  
  
"Quite," Severus snarled in her direction. "So you can keep me prisoner here."  
  
"Your understanding of the situation is impeccable as always, Professor," Madame Pomfrey replied with a dignified sort of amusement.  
  
"Poppy, the potion is almost to the point where it will have been boiling for too long. I'll have to start again if we wait any longer!" The increased tensing of muscles under Harry's fingers was all he needed to sense the building frustration.  
  
"Give me just a few moments and I'll go down there to cast a stasis charm over the potion. It doesn't have any of the ingredients that will react to that, does it?" Apparently, Madame Pomfrey wasn't about to take 'no' for an answer regarding Severus' health.  
  
A sigh of exasperation escaped Severus lips. "No. It's a delicate potion, but it can take a stasis spell. But I can't stay here for days- I need to finish the potion- it takes two days to brew in total and we've only been working on it for several hours."  
  
The nurse's steps approached the curtain partition and drew it aside only enough to step through. "I understand, Severus, but if your health is deteriorated who is going to look after necessities such as this in your absence? Now, calm yourself; your anger isn't assisting in the speed of your recovery."  
  
The frustration remained, but the tension drained from Severus with a deliberate effort. More quietly, he asked of the mediwitch, "Please hurry."  
  
Gently placing a hand on Severus' forehead, Madame Pomfrey nodded. As she left the partition and headed to the door, she called back, "I've diagnostic spells on all of you, so don't think of attempting to leave. I'll know of it when you've keeled over." The door quietly closed behind her and silence fell over the Hospital Ward for several moments. Outside a soft breeze could be heard rustling through the distant trees of the forest, breaking through the warmth of summer outside for that short span of time.  
  
"Well then," Severus' words startled Harry as they broke the silence. "What have I missed?"  
  
"Nothing important," Harry automatically replied, not wanting to voice his inner thoughts for the sake of maintaining the healing, and for the protection of a sudden desire for distance.  
  
With a pointed stare at Harry, Severus proved that he blatantly knew better. "I'm not blind, Harry. Even if I don't currently have the sight. Tell me what exactly happened that put us back here in the ward with the refreshingly silent company of an unconscious Black. The last thing I remember was his charge at me."  
  
"Erm," was Harry's informative reply, further enhanced by his, "Um". He couldn't find the words to say that wouldn't make him cringe in regret and self-hatred for his actions.  
  
"Don't make noises at me; you have a tongue," Severus growled in a manner more akin to his previous years. "Speak with it."  
  
Driven to irritation by the brief reminder of a harsher hateful man- back when he was Snape and not Severus, Harry found the impetus to growl in return. "You tried pushing me aside, I think, when I was casting to stop Sirius. Then I felt a massive surge of energy. The next thing I knew, Sirius was in a heap back down the hallway and you were unconscious next to me." His miniature tirade slowed to a halt there, his expression crumpling. "I ... I think Dumbledore found us and brought us here. I don't remember anything until a few hours ago."  
  
As he was intelligent, Severus predictably came to the same conclusion, murmuring, "One is the power while the other is the key. Apparently we have just experienced the ability referenced by that line."  
  
"What line?" Sirius croaked from across the hospital ward. 


	50. Brooding and Bottlenecks

A/N: Happy Holidays to all! Please make sure to keep safe no matter what plans you have for this time of year. I tried making this one a little longer, so enjoy. The previous chapter was "Bubble Bubble". I had meant to name this one "Toil and Trouble", but as the Toiling and Troubling has been delayed, so will that chapter name...  
  
Thank you as always for reading and reviewing. Reviews are like the best kind of presents. ;) And look - it's Chapter 50! *boggle*  
  
http://www.livejournal.com/users/athenakt/  
  
Disclaimers apply as always.  
  
---------------------  
  
Chapter 50  
  
Tension ran through Severus at the sound of the hated voice of Black, and his lips automatically curled themselves into a sneer. "None of your business, Black, so why don't you just see to the fleas you must have picked up whilst you were out cavorting with the other mongrels."  
  
Dragging himself up enough to look across the room at the partition concealing Harry and Severus, Black growled back, "I've already said that when it concerns Harry it /is/ my business, Snape."  
  
"Now now, gentlemen." A break in the developing war came with Dumbledore's voice. "Sirius, I'm afraid I must ask you to be patient for a while longer. When the time is right, you will come to understand what is happening." Apparently, he's already tried to keep a leash on Sirius when he'd taken him off to talk to him earlier, Severus thought.  
  
A quiet clatter of dishes coming to rest upon a table, and Dumbledore continued. "Now, Madame Pomfrey had made the request of a meal for Harry, but the House elves and I suspected that more would be needed, and after all- my little friends do so enjoy making impromptu meals to be enjoyed at need." More sounds of movement came from outside the partition, suddenly emphasizing to Severus the lack of movement from Harry.  
  
Looking over, he noted that the boy was somewhat slumped into himself, no doubt enjoying a good sulk and self-browbeating. "We'll talk later," Severus quietly said to Harry. Green eyes blinked and lifted to stare at him, widened and then despairing. Shaking his head, Severus couldn't help but smirk ruefully although the expression was only brief. For how long had he wanted to see Harry just like this in past years- repentant and fearfully respectful? Now the expression just made him more tired.  
  
Footfalls approached the partition and the clumsy clink of a spoon on a soup bowl from across the room made it clear to Severus that Black was being stubborn as usual and trying to feed himself whilst half conscious. Not that the condition was new to him, Severus couldn't help but add silently. There was no way he was going to speak to Harry further on this while Black was aware and in the same room. Silently he cursed Poppy for making them stay.  
  
The partition was opened enough for Dumbledore to carry a tray inside, laden with two soup bowls and a plate filled with small finger sandwiches. "You need to build your strength," he said kindly as he set the tray down. Severus was somewhat surprised that Dumbledore hadn't levitated the tray in an attempt to give something to distract Harry from his current state of mind. Perhaps he was planning something else, an idea that Severus didn't entirely like.  
  
Bowls were set on small tables for each of them, Severus' being the bed's lap table, and the sandwich plate was set on the table next to him within easy reach of both him and Harry.  
  
At the sound of a spoon clattering to the floor and quiet cursing from Black, Dumbledore smiled again, "Perhaps I had better give our Mr. Black some assistance; I see that the two of you should be able to handle things in here." Promptly, he turned and parted the curtains, closing them behind him before crossing the ward.  
  
It grew silent once more as Harry continued to only cradle his bowl of soup, stirring it listlessly. With the hopes of prompting Harry to eat, Severus tried setting an example for him and tucked into his own soup carefully so that he wouldn't join Black in losing his silverware to the floor below. He wasn't particularly hungry - he rarely was anymore - but perhaps if Harry was faced with something other than a fire-breathing potions master and was instead in the company of someone calmly eating their soup, he might unwind at least a little bit. Knowing the dark feelings Harry was experiencing far too well from his childhood, Severus' intent was to refrain from speaking until after the meal was finished. When Harry tasted his soup and then started eating with a will, Severus took a breath and returned to his soup as well.  
  
That internal promise lasted until just after they'd finished their soup. Severus wasn't surprised that Harry was hungry after all the work he'd been doing as far as healing was concerned. What did surprise him was when they both reached for a sandwich on the plate and Harry quickly drew back from him before contact was made.  
  
Severus was hardly the type to enjoy touching anyone if he could help it, but the behavior on Harry's part was new. Frowning, Severus didn't eat the sandwich; instead he broke the silence and asked, "What is the problem, Mr. Potter?" his voice perhaps a touch sharper than he'd intended.  
  
Harry's shoulders drew up defensively at the tone and shook his head silently.  
  
Controlling his voice to neutrality, Severus noted, "Avoiding the issue isn't going to help." He broke another internal promise to himself as he brought up the subject rather than waiting for more privacy. In a quiet hiss, he stated, "These abilities aren't going to go away. They will be here whether we want them to be or not. If you shy away from the issue, you will not learn to control them and you will do yourself and everyone around you more harm than good." Sternly, he added, "I will not allow you to do so. Together we are going to learn how to use these abilities, or together we are going to die when they backfire on us again." Waggling his finger sandwich at Harry, he scowled, "Now, Harry, accept the truth of the situation and pull yourself out of that funk or we shall see how well you learn to control the powers whilst under Imperio."  
  
* * * * *  
  
The combination of the threat and the sight of Severus shaking a sandwich at him was enough to crack Harry's composure. He started giggling a little, even if it had a slightly hysterical edge. When Harry looked up at Severus again and saw traces of concern seeded through the impatience in his aura, it softened the edges of Harry's self-loathing a little further.  
  
Severus was right in that Harry needed to control his portion of their powers. If Severus was able to continue dealing with him and still be concerned ... Harry knew from recent experience the large extents that Severus was capable of hating- both himself and others. If what Harry did wasn't a cause for hate in Severus, Harry decided that he could make an attempt at forgiving himself.   
  
Harry knew it would be difficult as his sense of guilt was great, but Severus had already spoken to him about it and he didn't want to be the cause of further aggravation. Harry also knew Sirius well enough to know that the man would insist it wasn't Harry's fault. Not an entirely true statement, but it made Harry determined that he /would/ learn to control the power so that it would not be his fault again.  
  
Something of Harry's expression must have transmitted his intentions as Severus nodded once when Harry looked up at him again. "With that decision made, eat. You'll need it."  
  
By the time they had finished their meal, Madame Pomfrey had returned. Sending a house elf away with the dishes, she set to checking up on Sirus and then Severus and Harry before she would even begin to answer Severus' demanded questions on the status of the potions. Entering the partition, Madame Pomfrey cast a silencing spell around their immediate area before turning to speak to them.  
  
"The potions are well enough and under stasis now. Once your energy has built up enough again," the nurse added with slow reluctance, "I will allow you to go to your lab and work on the potions under the condition that you take Mr. Potter with you to help and that you both check in with me every two hours for the first day at least."  
  
"But it's been so slow," Harry murmured in protest as she scanned Severus with a quietly intoned spell. In his wish to keep Severus from aggravation, Harry spoke for his benefit. "At this rate it'll be days and ... Mr. Malfoy will probably need the potion soon."  
  
Apparently satisfied with the results of the scanning, Madame Pomfrey turned to regard Harry seriously. "In my experience, there are many causes behind why some treatments may be slow to take effect. For instance, if the Skelegro were to work too quickly the regrowing bone would likely do a great deal of damage to the limbs and would not be correctly placed either. Not to mention the agony that the patient would experience. You recall how much it hurt as it is, do you not?"  
  
Remembering all too well, Harry nodded emphatically.  
  
"Well then. Other reasons behind a slow treatment may involve a bottleneck of some sort. Most frequently it is either caused by an improperly created medication or cast spell, or it could be a side effect of a curse or other ill effect battling the treatment. However," she added as she inspected him sternly, "I do believe that in this case, the bottleneck is in you."  
  
"How do you mean?" Harry protested. "I want Severus to be well again- I wouldn't do anything to hurt-"  
  
"I didn't meant to imply that you would, for you would not. As a matter of fact, that is part of the problem." The nurse placed a reassuring hand upon Harry's shoulder. "You are too afraid of harming Severus that you are subconsciously not allowing the healing energy to travel at a faster pace than a trickle. This is not your fault; you are not a trained mediwizard. However, you will need to realize and accept this, and make a concerted effort to allow the healing to flow more swiftly. Do not push it, however. Do not force the energy out or you will drain yourself and burn Severus. Just ... do not fear and let the magic do its work for you."  
  
"But the last time I let the magic do its work, it drained Severus and hurt Sirius," Harry argued.  
  
Madame Pomfrey shook her head gently, "You were casting magic in urgency and perhaps even a bit of anger or fear. Just relax. I will watch over you as you try again this time, Harry. I will not let Severus come to harm. Do not fear."  
  
Harry looked over at Severus who had been listening, and Severus nodded once with silent permission. 


	51. Recharging and Rescues

A/N: I'm sorry this chapter is a bit late in coming. I know what's going to happen, but the words just wouldn't come to me for a while. I did manage to make this one a little longer to make up for the wait.  
  
Your reviews as always are a bright light in my days, and I thank you endlessly for sending them!  
  
http://www.livejournal.com/users/athenakt/  
  
Disclaimers apply as always.  
  
---------------------  
  
Chapter 51  
  
Slowly, Harry reached out towards Severus, rising from his chair so that he could touch Severus' arm with one hand and rest his hand above Severus' heart with the other.  
  
To some degree, Harry suddenly thought, this instinctive position was a little like the setup to recharge a car battery. Harry remembered watching once; Harry and Uncle Vernon had gotten stuck at the grocery store in the rain when the car wouldn't start. He remembered how Uncle Vernon had muttered dire things under his breath even as some kind passerby had stopped to help them out.   
  
The good Samaritan had produced jumper cables and attached them to the car batteries- first to his own and then to Uncle Vernon's. One cable was used for grounding while the other was used to charge the battery, the thin man wearing the baseball cap explained to the young Harry with an easygoing smile.  
  
After the cables were attached, the man waited a minute while revving his engine a little, and then had Uncle Vernon start his car. When the car started with a cough, Uncle Vernon had gruffly thanked the man- one of the few times he had witness politeness from his Uncle and thusly made it stand out in his memory.  
  
Harry came back to the present and realized that Severus was resting easily although trembling a little. His chest rose and fell with deep breaths, and Harry's hands were tingling as though they were in the midst of recovering from falling asleep. Eyes widening with surprise, Harry checked Severus' aura to find it growing perceptibly stronger and edged with a startlement of its own.  
  
When she cast a diagnostic spell upon Severus, Madame Pomfrey smiled with pleased relief. "You've got it, Mr. Potter," she encouraged, "Keep it up for just a little longer." More intently, she added, "We've no information on when it would be best to stop, or how to know this, but your abilities have seemed largely instinctive thus far. I would suggest continuing until it feels right, but don't feel that you should go on past that just to give Severus more energy. It's quite likely that with your donation, Severus' magic will be able to regenerate itself to its normal levels. Without it, it would have taken several months on its own."  
  
Harry turned to gape at Madame Pomfrey, his mortified guilt swelling to a new height. "Did I take that much from him? Is it that hard to regenerate?"  
  
Severus apparently had enough discussion without his involvement and glared irritably up at Harry. "That isn't important; I'm doing well enough now."  
  
"You're not leaving quite yet, Severus," the nurse admonished. "You're to remain there until I clear you to leave the ward." Turning back to Harry, she added, "Now I should see to Mr. Black; the Headmaster has gone to fetch something for you, Harry." With that, she slipped out of the partition, keeping the curtains in place.  
  
Curiosity distracted Harry further as he kept his hands in place. What did Dumbledore have, and why give it to him now of all times? He and Severus had been back at Hogwarts for a while now.  
  
It wasn't long before the answer to the question was provided. Cheerfully, Dumbledore reappeared at the partition's entrance and announced, "Ah, there you are!"  
  
When Severus muttered an annoyed, "Where else would we be," the Headmaster appeared unaffected, summoning forth a comfortable chair in which to sit and doing so with a flourish more reminiscent of Dumbledore's affectations in Harry's first year. Severus brushed Harry's hands away from himself, and as Harry felt as though it wouldn't do Severus harm, he didn't object, turning instead to watch Dumbledore and allowing Severus to compose himself unobserved.  
  
Once he was comfortable, Dumbledore produced a small packet of ... letters! But- this was too many of them for them to have been sent just recently. Harry stared at the bundle with a mix of pleasure at the idea of hearing from his friends, and growing irritation. He /hated/ having his correspondence kept from him. First the Dursleys, then Dobby in his misguided effort to keep Harry safe, and now Dumbledore!  
  
The Headmaster's tone of voice remained ever cheerful and innocent of all wrongs even as Severus was staring at the older wizard warily. No doubt Severus had experienced behavior like this before during his professorial career, Harry thought, perhaps even during his time as a student. Holding out the letters to Harry, Dumbledore smiled, "I collected these for you this summer, Harry. Unfortunately, it seems that these letters were not able to reach you whilst you were at your Uncle's. The owls delivering them were instructed by your friends to come to me if that were the case."  
  
Not about to allow Dumbledore to get away that easily, Harry glared at him. "And what about when I was here at Hogwarts?"  
  
Sternly, Dumbledore regarded Harry, "You were taken by the circumstances surrounding your present situation, and although it might have been a pleasant distraction for you, it would have been a distraction that you and we could not afford."  
  
"You wouldn't have given me the letters even now if you had decided differently, wouldn't you?" Harry accused.  
  
Calmly, Dumbledore nodded, "Indeed. But you seemed to need to be brought out of your inner troubles. And you are drawn out of them now, aren't you, Harry?"  
  
Blinking with startlement, Harry regarded Dumbledore in return for some moments, torn between his continued anger at the interference and the realization that in his own way, Dumbledore was right. With a quiet mutter of irritation, Harry took the small bundle of letters from Dumbledore whose eyes twinkled with amusement now. Looking over at Severus, the Headmaster noted, "You're rubbing off on him, Severus."  
  
Severus didn't dignify the jest with a reply, sitting up and pointedly turning his attention to Harry. "I feel much recovered," he solemnly intoned with a formal nod. "Thank you."  
  
Startled by the faint light of a diagnostic spell passing over him, Severus swiftly looked to the partition opening and noticed Madame Pomfrey who nodded to herself with satisfaction. "You /are/ much recovered, although you shouldn't have sat up until I checked you over again," she announced with a scolding edge. "Hidden injuries don't always make themselves known with immediate pain."  
  
"How well I know, Poppy," Severus growled back at her. "Can we leave at long last?"  
  
Sniffing once, Madame Pomfrey nodded. "Minerva's here to escort the two of you down to your rooms."  
  
With that statement, Severus didn't hesitate to get up and retrieve his neatly folded robes. "We'll be going, then." Expecting that nothing would stop Severus from departing post haste, but the older wizard paused and gave Poppy a faint smile. "Thank you as always," he murmured before pushing past her, ignoring Dumbledore on the way out. Dumbledore looked sad but said nothing, and so Harry trailed out in Severus' wake.  
  
Professor McGonnagal was approaching the partition as Harry emerged, and it was then that he was able to appreciate that there had been a silencing spell around it. Sirius was glaring daggers at Severus from his bed. Severus returned the gaze impassively, but when Sirius spotted his godson, Sirius turned his attention to the younger wizard and softly murmured, "Harry..." his voice filled with confusion and regret. "Are you all right?"  
  
"Yes, Sirius," Harry tried for a reassuring smile, clutching the small bundle of letters between his hands. "I'm fine."  
  
"Where'r you going?"  
  
Pausing for a moment, Harry looked down at his feet before he approached Sirius' bed. He could sense that Severus paused on the way to the door, watching him. "I have to help out in the potion's lab," Harry replied, again trying for something casual. Something lighthearted and affectionate for his godfather. "I'll see if I can come up later and visit."  
  
Shooting another brief glare at Severus, Sirius protested, "He can brew potions on his own; he's been doing it all his life. Can't you stay here a while, Harry?" His expression underwent a full reversal as he studied Harry with a deep concern.  
  
Professor McGonnagal chose that moment to intervene, "Harry's help is necessary in this instance, Mr. Black. Along with the potions that have been delayed by your arrival and the time in the Hospital Wing, there are a number of others that Madame Pomfrey will be needing for the upcoming school year."  
  
As Dumbledore approached and sat in the chair by Sirius' bed, he placed a comforting hand on Sirius' arm. "In the meantime, we should go over the next mission that I'll need you and Remus to see to. Don't worry, Sirius," Dumbledore smiled. "Harry is in good health and in good hands."  
  
Harry put a hand on Sirius' other arm and managed a warm smile. "I'll see you soon. You can tell me what you and Professor Lupin have been up to. I'd love to hear about it." With a last pat and a quiet goodbye, Harry turned to follow Professor McGonnagal and Severus to the door. From Severus' aura, he was none too thrilled about Sirius' presence, but he was restraining himself, possibly for Harry's sake.  
  
Suddenly Harry felt much better about things in general.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Once they were out of the Hospital Ward, Severus led the way to the dungeons and his laboratory. Not wanting to take the time to take the students' more roundabout route, he instead took the small group through his customary shortcuts.  
  
"Severus," Minerva prompted him, keeping up with them easily due to the boon of her animagus nature, "We still haven't had that talk."  
  
"Not now, Minerva." Severus sighed, "I've had a lot of time to think things over. I cannot ... entirely blame you for those past actions. I don't like that you and Albus thought it necessary to supersede my free will back then," he added in a voice that grew harder as he spoke, "And if anything like that is done to me again, I shall be most displeased."  
  
Minerva primly replied, "You were in your minority, Severus, and you were being influenced by a powerful wizard elevating himself into becoming another Dark Lord. He was gathering an army, and he had apparently discovered that you were one of those spoken of in the prophecies."  
  
"I realize all of that," Severus growled as he spelled the door to his laboratory open, letting her and Harry enter. "But I expect to be consulted next time- should there be one."  
  
Crossing the room and casting a quick glance at the cauldrons under the stasis fields, Severus satisfied himself that there was no damage to the potions within.   
  
It was then Severus noticed the unbreakable bottle that rested on the floor by his fireplace. Looking suddenly uneasy, he swiftly moved to retrieve it, cursing under his breath and muttering, "We may have run out of time..."  
  
Sure enough, after checking the bottle for curses and forgery, he opened it only for Draco's voice to emerge, urgent and frightened.  
  
"Uncle Severus, Father has just returned. He needs your potion. Please floo over as soon as you can!" 


	52. Toil and Trouble

A/N: Yes, I'm very late again; RL has been keeping me too busy to write for any length of time. I'm hoping the content of this chapter will be worth the wait; I'm actually working on tying together some loose ends and move towards wrapping up the story. Once I finish this one, I'm likely going to be writing another which will be unrelated to the events in I and E.  
  
Any comments or rants you want to toss my way? Curious about other information I have to share (when my brain is working)?  
http://www.livejournal.com/users/athenakt/  
  
Here's another happy place; I'm archived on Jedi Buttercup's new site together with a bunch of great stories. http://worldbuilding.jedibuttercup.com/  
  
And a last piece of good news: Now that the HPSS GenFest First wave has been completed, I'll be posting the story I wrote for it on ff.net as well. The easiest way to find it is to check out my ff.net Author's page, of course. Enjoy!  
  
Disclaimers apply as always. Thank you for reading and reviewing!  
  
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Chapter 52  
  
Severus sat down heavily in the armchair by the fire, the bottle still gripped in his hands as he stared at the fire. Producing his wand soon afterwards, there was a strange noise like someone speaking backwards in high speed before the bottle resealed itself with a soft hiss at Severus' murmured spell. Another murmur and he sighed, his forehead creasing with worry. "Draco sent this over three hours ago."  
  
Harry tried to be encouraging, not knowing the full situation. "It may take a while, but we can still make the potion and send it along to them..."  
  
Grimacing, Severus got to his feet and swiftly made his way back to the cauldrons, waving away the stasis spell on the potion for Lucius, starting the fire beneath it and retrieving the fluxweed. Grimly he set about preparing it to add to the cauldron. "Draco sounded quite upset. Lucius' encounter with the Cruciatus curse wasn't likely a swift one. Prolonged exposure is predictably worse- the aftereffects longer lasting. The Dark Lord doesn't give that out as punishment frequently despite all appearances." Delicately adding the fluxweed while stirring, he scowled. "I can imagine what Lucius might have done to be given that sort of treatment. It's entirely possible that he foolishly tried to protect me."  
  
"That's not something for you to feel guilty about," Harry insisted. His dislike for the elder Malfoy may be somewhat dulled in the face of Severus' regard for the man, but it was still there. Malfoy's harsh mistreatment of Dobby was a sore issue with Harry.  
  
Although the words were distancing and cool, Severus' voice wasn't a match, being only quiet. "What I feel is not for you to dictate to me." A sigh as he finished stirring and Severus lowered the flame. "It has but to simmer for a day now. I had previously thought of experimenting to see to what extent the potion would help when given early. Perhaps I'll take a trip over in an hour or so with a dose. Anything before then and the fluxweed will not have been fully infused into the mixture." The intent was more of a stated decision than a speculative comment as Severus set about preparing a message bottle of his own to send over to Draco.  
  
Uneasy, Harry stepped towards Severus, "I'll be coming with you, right? I mean, we haven't been further away from each other than when I was in the room across the hall yet."  
  
"Well then, this is as good a time as any to test what will happen at long distances," Severus muttered distractedly. "Malfoy's mansion is a much better locale to do so than a more public area. I will return by floo as soon as I've administered the dose and settled Draco."  
  
Harry still felt something he didn't like about the situation and voiced it without reluctance. "I can still come with you though. Just in case, and I could help out."  
  
Professor McGonnagal had just opened her mouth to protest the idea when Severus spoke up instead, "I'll be quite all right on my own. And besides, I hardly see how antagonizing Draco when he is upset already will be of any help. Seeing you in his family home is unlikely to be a source of comfort to him." Severus bespelled the bottle with the muttered message that he would be arriving within two hours. Swiftly sending it through his floo connection, he turned again to Harry. "Don't let your Gryffindor sense of conscience and duty overwhelm you unduly."  
  
Finding that Severus was too distracted and troubled by the situation at hand, Harry decided to try and bring him out of it. "Call it enlightened self-interest. The Sorting Hat didn't want to put me in Gryffindor at first, you know."  
  
"Oh really," Severus sneered. "I imagine its intention was to put you in Hufflepuff then? You're certainly not academically driven enough for Ravenclaw."  
  
"Actually, it thought that Slytherin would have been the best house suited for my developing talents." There was something satisfying in seeing Severus stupified by Harry's statement, and Harry couldn't help but smirk at him. A glance at McGonnagal gave him a warm feeling inside as he realized he'd hit a double whammy in shocking the two professors.  
  
* * * * *  
  
After too short a time for his triumphantly smug grin, Harry was sent to sit down on the couch with his bundle of letters while Severus and Professor McGonnagal continued to "work" and talk quietly over the slowly bubbling potion. It was strange seeing the Transfigurations professor standing over a cauldron, Harry mused. The two professors kept their voices lowered to a degree that Harry couldn't hear what they had to say. The Slytherin in Harry kept an eye on Severus' aura to try and get a feel for what the subject might be about, but Severus' aura didn't change overly much from the troubled brooding it had aquired since the discovery of Draco's message in a bottle.  
  
He didn't agree with the plan to send Severus alone to the Malfoys, but Harry couldn't argue Severus' intent to be of help to the family. Under these stressful circumstances, Harry's reintroduction to them would be better later than sooner. Turning to the letter packet, Harry unwrapped the cord keeping them together and started to sort through them. Three letters each from Ron and Hermione. Five letters from Sirius, the first three of which were long and the last two which were no more than a scrap of parchment. Two from Professor Lupin which were a bit crinkled and reminded Harry of the second-handness of the werewolf's robes...  
  
Harry wasn't entirely certain he really wanted to read what was likely to be a large gathering of notes expressing sympathy and concern enough to make him dwell upon the events before the summer again. Instead, he spent a good amount of time merely running his fingers along the various bits of parchment and studying the differences in handwriting styles of his friends. When movement distracted him from the letters, Harry felt somewhat relieved.  
  
That relief changed as Harry realized it was time for Severus to go, and worry washed over him instead. Across the room, Severus was decanting a bottle full of potion from the cauldron with the strength and smooth movements of habit; barely a clink or clatter was heard from him.  
  
Harry wanted to open his mouth with the intent to voice his uneasiness, his concern, to tell Severus he shouldn't go, to tell him anything to get him to take Harry with him- Harry's movement was instead brought to an abrupt halt at the dark look Severus shot him. Rising to his feet instead, Harry shuffled towards the older wizard and tried for a smirk with only partial success. "I won't wish you luck." The older wizard believed in skill, not luck.  
  
Severus sneered in return, "You're learning." Having sealed the bottle and set the rest of the potion to continue its boil, Severus carried the bottle over to his floo and set it on the mantle while he secured his cloak over his shoulders.  
  
"I'm going to keep the connection open on this side, Severus," Professor McGonnagal sternly insisted. "I want you to let us know you're all right once you reach there."  
  
With a glance at Harry, Severus grumbled, "Very well, very well. Leave me be already; the sooner I go the sooner I'll be done and back." With that, he promptly reached for a pinch of floo powder and called out, "Malfoy Manor" before stepping through the flames and disappearing. McGonnagal smoothly waved her wand and muttered a spell that kept the flames green.  
  
Suddenly restless, Harry couldn't help but start pacing, especially as seconds passed and no word back from Severus was heard. Professor McGonnagal shared a look with Harry but hid her concern well. "We should give him another minute; Lucius is likely in a bad way, and Draco will need calming. If he doesn't call back after that, I will make contact. Sit down, Harry."  
  
As Harry turned to slowly make his way back towards the couch, he heard the whoosh of the floo and a startled noise from McGonnagal, followed by the heavy thud of a body hitting the floor. Whirling around, Harry's hand groped for his still absent wand as his eyes sought out the object that came through the floo.  
  
Harry felt somewhat better upon noticing that Professor McGonnagal's drawing speed was swift; she had her wand in hand and pointing at the huddled and trembling body that still lay on the floor before the floo. Her authoritative voice dominated the room as she took a step forward. "Who are you, sir?"  
  
A pale and slender hand rose slowly from the pile of humanity that was dressed in torn and bloody robes, brown from stains and apparent age. The hand waved at the floo connection which returned to a normal fire. The voice that joined the hand was a distinct disparity in diction even though it was weak and wavering. "Please excuse me, madam. It was not my intention to startle you, nor my wish to arrive uninvited. However, I had no choice under the circumstances."  
  
"Your name?" McGonnagal archly inquired again, looking concerned at the man's condition despite her wariness and steadily pointed wand.  
  
"Parcelsis Snape," the figure replied, wearily raising his head as he attempted to press himself into a sitting position. "I am Severus' father. As he came from here, I had to assume that you knew him and were friendly."  
  
Harry's eyes widened as he studied the man, horrifically different from the two pictures that Severus had of him before he was sent to Azkaban. Dark eyes were filled with a sharp perceptiveness that couldn't seem to focus for long on any one thing. Long dark hair streaked with grey was matted with dirt and blood like his torn robes and wrinkles betrayed the man's increased age and degraded health; his body was as thin as a rail, but he was still recognizable.  
  
"Severus' father?" Professor McGonnagal repeated, a little disbelieving. "Have you proof of this? And where is Severus now? Why did you close the floo connection?"  
  
Harry spoke up then, urgently wanting to get the issue of the man's identity over with so Severus' condition could be seen to. "I recognize him from the pictures Severus has. Over there," Harry pointed to the bookcases where both the Professor and Parcelsis looked. While McGonnagal quickly moved over there, Harry repeated her question. "Where is Severus?"  
  
Bracing himself against the side of the fireplace behind him, Parcelsis croaked, "I'm afraid he's been taken. They were going to use me to keep him there after they got the Dementors to join them and fetched me from Azkaban... They were able to catch him by surprise when he arrived. Young Lucius was convulsing and distracted Severus. They cursed him from behind. I expect you wouldn't wish a visit from them, so rather than waste words, I closed the connection." He shook his head sadly, "I'd always warned him about floo travel."  
  
Feeling outrage surge through him, Harry jumped to conclusions. "The Malfoys took him?"  
  
"No," Parcelsis rasped. "Voldemort did." 


	53. Comfortably Numb

A/N: Thank you very much for all of your feedback and encouragement; I love hearing from you. Thanks also for the praise for my newest story ASoP, but as I mentioned in the author's notes, it will be a one-shot unless I win the lottery or find some other windfall and find myself with tons of free time to write. ;) I've got a number of other plot bunnies that I'd like to try my hand at once I've finished I and E.  
  
I hope that readers will recognize one of the locations in this chapter from previous chapters. Come and visit my LiveJournal if you want to start a chat! The URL is in my profile (FF.net didn't show the address in this chapter when I tried uploading it the first time).  
  
As I was asked, the HPSS Genfest can be found in Yahoo Groups- I'm sure they'd love some more writers to join in the fun. I'll update my profile with the URL here, too.  
  
This chapter title has wandered again. I believe the chapters named 'Fire Burn' plus '...and Cauldron Bubble' should be more in theme with the titles. You'll easily figure out where this title comes from (other than Pink Floyd). Ahem.  
  
Disclaimers apply as always. Thank you for reading and reviewing!  
  
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Chapter 53  
  
In his mind Harry knew he was just standing there in shock at Parcelsis Snape's announcement. He knew that he should do something; ask questions of Severus' father, tell McGonnagal to contact Dumbledore, run through the floo and rip Severus out of Voldemort's clutches...  
  
Well, at least Professor McGonnagal was wise enough to carry out her bit of his internally voiced orders. Soon enough Dumbledore's features came out of the Floo, gazing at the Professor in concern. "Minerva? Is everyone all right? You look terribly pale."  
  
"Oh, Albus, please come to Severus' rooms- quickly." The trust that Dumbledore held in his Deputy Headmaster was proven as he studied her only for a moment before the floo fire whooshed and he stepped through. If there was a situation that she couldn't handle herself, it must be serious indeed.  
  
Wondering how McGonnagal would summarize what just happened and how she would introduce Parcelsis to Dumbledore, Harry was very surprised when he instead heard her whisper, "Harry," with what sounded like a deep concern.  
  
A whisper of robes as Dumbledore walked over, and Harry felt the Headmaster's hand, cool and soft, touch his forehead- brushing at the scar and soothing his hair. So quietly that only Harry could hear him, Dumbledore murmured, "It's the Prophecy". Another moment and Harry felt himself moving towards the couch and being guided to sit there. "Give him a few minutes to recover," Dumbledore assured the others.  
  
But Severus, Harry wanted to shout. They've got him- they could be doing things to him, taking him away!  
  
Dumbledore's hand gently ran over his hair again before the aged wizard turned away and walked over to McGonnagal and Parcelsis. "I believe I should call Poppy over to see to this gentleman, and Sirius I'm sure would like to assist Harry."  
  
Time passed in a murmured conversation across the room and the whoosh of the Floo. There was an exclamation of surprise from the new arrivals before Harry heard Parcelsis' rasp of a voice, suddenly sharp with suspicion. "How did you get out?"  
  
There was a pause during which Harry could imagine Sirius' frown. "Out from where?"  
  
"Don't pretend you don't understand what I mean." Harry could guess where Severus got his commanding tone from, even if that tone was worn down and unsteady at the moment. "I was removed from Azkaban by Voldemort upon their taking over the prison with the Dementors on their side. You, however, seem to have been out for a while."  
  
Again Sirius paused before replying; Harry vaguely noticed that Sirius looked to Dumbledore who nodded his approval before moving to one side to consult with Professor McGonnagal. "I escaped around two years ago."  
  
Parcelsis' voice grew contemplative, his words slower as though struggling with memory. "Two years ago ... You are Sirius Black? I remember that being spoken of."  
  
Sirius sounded somewhat surprised. "You remember much from there?"  
  
"Unfortunately," Parcelsis coughed. Madame Pomfrey promptly urged him to drink a potion she had with her, shooing Sirius away from her new patient.  
  
Soon Harry felt the couch dip next to him, a firm hand settling upon his shoulder. "Harry? Can you hear me?" Sirius' hand felt firm and strong; Madame Pomfrey had done her job well.  
  
Sirius' voice sounded a little startled as he said, "Yeah; I'm feeling much better now.  
  
Harry was glad. He could hear a deadened voice say so. He wasn't surprised when he also heard it say that it wanted to get Severus back.  
  
"We'll get him back, Harry," Sirius tried to control his voice, but there was still an edge of hatred and accusation directed at Severus as he spoke of him. "He'll be back soon."  
  
"It's the Prophecy," Harry thought of saying, but that deadened voice said it for him. "I have to go over there. Together we can kill Voldemort." Harry considered being surprised by the touch of venom the voice had when declaring its intention to kill. Harry thought that perhaps he should turn his attention away from that voice...  
  
Hearing someone else approaching, Harry turned to see Professor McGonnagal walking towards the couch, settling herself there with a pleasant smile. Across the room Madame Pomfrey was treating Parcelsis with expertly cast diagnosis and healing charms, but Harry knew it would take a long while before the man would truly start to recover. Even now he was still unable to stop his body's trembling; his features wan under the glowing light from the Mediwitch's wand. "Harry." McGonnagal's voice drew his attention away from Severus' father again to regard the smiling witch politely. "How are Ron and Hermione doing this summer?"  
  
Hearing his Head of House refer to his friends by first name made Harry confused for a moment; she was usually quite thorough in keeping to formal protocol. Distracted, Harry looked down at the pile of letters she returned to his lap. His friends... Harry thought he could talk about them a bit. "I've not read these yet," he murmured.  
  
"Whyever not?" Professor McGonnagal inquired, her voice lilting with curiosity. "No doubt they would greatly appreciate hearing from you. Some writing implements can be provided for your use, of course."  
  
No. Harry shook his head repeatedly as that detached feeling washed over him again. "Now." Need to get Severus back now. No more waiting; that would only lead to more problems.  
  
Fortunately the contrast of Harry's shaking his head in negation and saying the word "Now" confused the Professor and Sirius long enough for Harry to recognize the opportunity and to take it. He bolted out of his place on the sofa and ran across the room. At the fireplace, Dumbledore was just opening the floo for Poppy to bring Parcelsis to the Hospital Wing. As Dumbledore threw the floo powder into the fireplace, Harry leapt in front of Poppy and shouted, "Malfoy Manor!" before diving in and disappearing.  
  
* * * * *  
  
As Severus stepped out of the floo in Malfoy Manor, he steadied himself for a moment on the nearby wingback chair. Off to one side towards the large windows, Severus saw Lucius just starting one of a probable series of Post-Cruciatus convulsions. Grimly, Severus grasped the potions bottle in hand and started to walk over, intent on getting something to put in Lucius' mouth to make sure he didn't swallow his tongue. It was then there was a white-hot flash of pain. He cursed himself for his lack of caution before everything went black.  
  
Hands on stone ... cold and hard on his back ... splitting headache ... murmured voices in the distance ...  
  
Muddled memories sluggishly swirled before Severus felt himself regaining awareness ... remembering the dizziness of the Floo travel and his concern for Lucius before he stupidly allowed himself to be cursed from behind. Severus tried to move but found himself hexed to stillness. He was likely better off this way as moving would likely cause him more pain than he wanted to think about. The last thing he wanted, however, was to lie helpless to await the pleasure of his captors.  
  
The surface below him was of cold stone, and from the looks of his current height the surface was elevated. He was resting atop an alter-like slab of stone inside what appeared to be a large dungeon room. As he tried to focus his mind into coherency, something about the room seemed familiar to Severus. Disturbingly familiar.  
  
At the sound of others approaching, Severus closed his eyes most of the way to feign unconsciousness before the small group became visible through the doorway out. A man completely enshrouded in black robes and hood led the way with a couple trailing behind him. The man moved with slow deliberation, his hair was long and shorn unevenly, with a sharpness to his gaze that seemed rather unstable. A woman walked with him, one hand settled upon his arm as though they were out for a stroll through the garden. The quirk of a smile upon her lips was something that Severus would prefer to have not noticed.   
  
Not wanting to risk discovery against observing them further, Severus closed his eyes completely. Inside he was seething at his current situation. The most he could do is hope to overhear something useful and to delay the proceedings. The latter was a futile hope at best; Severus remembered Voldemort showing no hesitation to work upon his unconscious form.  
  
The best he could hope for was an improbable rescue ... or that he would be able to overcome whatever Voldemort had in mind for him. 


	54. Wards and Warnings

In thanks of everyone's waiting so patiently for me, I've written a slightly longer chapter. As I'm working to end the story without leaving too much unexplained, I'm having to take a little more time than I thought I would. Let me assure you again however, this story will not be uncompleted; I will work on it until it is done.  
  
My LiveJournal for extended author's notes is in my Author's Profile. I'd love to hear from you there if you want to discuss anything about my story, etc.  
  
Disclaimers apply as always. Thank you for reading and reviewing!  
  
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Chapter 54  
  
Harry landed at the other end of his Floo trip, surprisingly keeping his feet although he couldn't keep from stumbling forward a few steps from his momentum. A quick scan of the room showed that it was currently uninhabited apart from an unconscious Lucius Malfoy over by the window on a lounge. Coughing a bit from the last grate he'd passed before reaching the Malfoy's, he waved away the ash and tried to draw in some clean air. A subtle scent of sandalwood became noticeable once Harry got past the smoky air from the Floo.  
  
Taking a step forward, Harry nearly tripped over a bottle which had been hidden in the shadow of a nearby wingback chair. Recognizing it as the bottle that Severus had brought with him caused a wave of anger and worry for the man, and he deposited the bottle into an inner pocket of his robes. Sending an awful glare at the elder Malfoy's body, Harry silently crossed the room to start his stealthy search for Severus and his captors. The fact that Voldemort was likely one of them only increased his anxious tremors, but he proceeded with the determination normally attributed to his chosen House.  
  
Setting along the cold and long hallway of marble and wood, Harry ghosted up to the first door and canted his head to listen. The impression of a presence was there in the way that one might sense the wind blowing beyond a closed window. It was enough to assure him that there was no silencing spell on the door; he heard nothing beyond to imply any activity.  
  
Skulking to the next door to repeat the process, Harry frowned in thought- this was going to take too long. He couldn't do this through the entire mansion. A frown, and Harry reminded himself in a voice that sounded much like Severus speaking in his head: 'You're a wizard. Act like one'. And so Harry tried reaching out with his senses beyond hearing.  
  
At first it felt like a buzz of subliminal vibrations, but it was different in a way that Harry couldn't quite describe. It came from the fifth door down the hallway, so Harry snuck over to get a better look. Slowly Harry reached towards the doorway, but stopped abruptly. There was something there, like the prickling of an electric charge... but magical. A ward, Harry decided. There are likely tons of them scattered throughout the mansion as well. He had to narrow it down further.  
  
Again Harry reached out with his thoughts. This time he focused upon the idea of Severus and those times that Harry had found himself delving into Severus' magic for one reason or another. He recalled the time that he had 'filtered' the magic to free it of Voldemort's influence and in reaction had reduced Dumbledore's as well. But it wasn't eliminated completely; Harry scowled to himself even as he searched for that feeling once more. The elemental rush of Severus' power most frequently manifested itself as a feeling of surging wind and water, and Harry tried to find that sensation somewhere around him. He began to move.  
  
When he opened his eyes Harry found himself facing a blank wall of stone in the middle of a hallway that ended several feet further down in a niche covered with expensive looking tapestries and a surprisingly comfortable looking armchair. Again Harry slowly reached out towards the area of the wall where he'd stopped to test for that sensation of warding, similar to the doorway he'd felt earlier. There was nothing that he could sense, yet he felt the urge to somehow walk beyond, as though there should be a passage behind. It occurred to Harry that there might be an alternate way around the wall from another passageway, but it was just as likely that there was a secret door somewhere. He spent a few frustrating minutes trying to find a button, toggle or lever somewhere within the stone and was unable to do so.  
  
Harry's attention was drawn then by a sound from back down the hall inside one of the rooms. In hopes of ending his search, he quietly went to listen at the door which had a new-looking bar and hook around the door handles holding it shut from the outside.  
  
The sound was distant and irregular. At first Harry wasn't certain as to what it was, but then he was able to recognize the sound of frustrated stomping across the room from his experiences with Dudley. He remembered many a time that his cousin would angrily stomp his way up the stairs to his room when he'd had an argument with one of his friends, or when he'd been carefully refused a second pudding, sending showers of dust upon Harry in his cupboard.  
  
The stomping ended in a sudden thud against the door, followed by something heavy falling to the Floor on the other side. That was the final straw, and Harry reached for the bar to unlock and open the door.  
  
Harry's first view was impressions of a maroon and wood room, filled with books, one of which was resting upon the Floor at his feet. The second was of the swiftly approaching Draco Malfoy in a rare show of rage, his mouth opened to shout at Harry in impulsive reaction.   
  
Flickers of memory were brought to Harry's mind in swift procession. The sound of Severus' voice warming when speaking to Draco's father, the easy banter between the two, Severus' concern for Draco's welfare. It was that which helped Harry make his decision. He raised a finger to his lips in a swift request for silence, hoping for the best.  
  
Draco was enough of a Slytherin to keep a reign on his anger, cutting off the shout until he could learn more. "What are /you/ doing here?" Draco hissed angrily.  
  
"I'm here to free Severus," Harry replied, working hard to keep a reign on his own temper. "He's here, but I've no idea where they've taken him."  
  
Grey eyes narrowing, Draco's bitter anger slipped its reins a little, "Why are you calling him by his first name? You couldn't care less if he lives or dies."  
  
Taking out the bottle of potion, Harry displayed it to Draco and frowned at him. "Things change. Severus made this for your father and got captured when bringing it to him- because of the bottled message you sent him. He was worried about you."  
  
The blonde scowled at Harry, but buried behind the expression were faint traces of surprise and concern. "Where are Severus and my Father?" he asked while taking a prowling step towards Harry.  
  
"I can't find Severus," Harry replied while cautiously looking up and down the hall again for any sign of the captors. "I've been looking. I think he's behind a secret door down the end of the hallway, but I can't find out how to open it."  
  
Again Draco seemed surprised, but stubbornly repeated, "Where is my Father?"  
  
"He's in one of the rooms that way," Harry pointed in the direction he originally came from. "A room with a Floo; it's how Severus and then I got here."  
  
"You came alone?" Draco frowned as he used his newly gained greater height to back Harry out into the hallway and towards the Floo room.  
  
A shock of realization came over Harry as he replied, "Yes... Yes, I did." Harry wondered that no one came in after him, then remembered how Dumbledore had been nearest to the Floo... how the Floo powder had been thrown in at the perfect time for Harry to jump in and take advantage of it. Either Dumbledore was keeping the others from joining him, or something else was up. When Draco subtly moved in a way to urge Harry forward and in the direction he wanted, Harry stopped short. "That secret door is in the other direction. Can't you open it?"  
  
Scowling, Draco's voice took on a mannerism similar to Severus in its determination and prompting to obey. "Firstly, you are going to bring my Father that potion and we're going to give it to him. Because, secondly, that door is one of the secured ones that I haven't been given access to until I'm ... older." Draco's frown grew a shade uncomfortable, but he stepped forward to get Harry going again. "Now hurry up, Potter. Only my Father can open that door for us."  
  
"Will he do that?" Harry resisted with his own stubbornness. "Doesn't he have loyalties to his Master?"  
  
Draco's scowl grew, touched by anger and frustration. "Don't speak of what you know nothing about. Now shut up and get going."  
  
Harry disliked being treated as though he was Crabbe or Goyle, but he turned back towards the Floo room anyway. If Lucius was the only one able to get them in, he'd just have to trust his instincts and hope that this time the Malfoys would be on his side. Perhaps what happened now would result in the Malfoys leaving Voldemort as Severus had been urging Lucius to do. He stopped suddenly in realization and turned to Draco. "What about your Mother?"  
  
"She's visiting with friends in Rome. We can get a message to her once we've gotten Father and Severus out and she won't come back here."  
  
With Draco's statement, Harry turned a wide-eyed gaze upon the other boy. Draco only returned it, the Slytherin's expression calm and distant as they entered the Floo room. When Draco spotted Lucius on the lounge he quickly walked over to check how he was. Harry followed at a slower pace, carrying the bottled potion over and advised, "The potion isn't finished. Severus said he'd intended to try and see if a dose that was taken early would help even if it might be less effective."  
  
Draco glanced without expression over his shoulder at Harry even as one hand ran over Lucius' arm to soothe at the muscle spasms there. "Yes," he muttered. "Severus had mentioned that once a while ago. Give it here."  
  
Wondering at how many times Severus and Lucius had needed to use this anti-cruciatus potion, Harry bit his lip and handed it over. The efficiency with which Draco urged his father to open his mouth enough and helped him to swallow convinced Harry with a wash of regret that it was in all likelihood too many.  
  
The next few minutes passed in a wash of bemused disbelief for Harry as he listened to Draco explain what had happened while Lucius slowly showed signs of recovery; the elder Malfoy still couldn't control all of his body's trembles but at least it had lessened and his eyes were able to focus with awareness. When Draco mentioned how Harry had released him from the room that Voldemort had imprisoned him in, Harry found himself the recipient of an extremely intent gaze. Lucius' grey eyes flickered only minimally, but Harry felt as though he were being taken apart for analysis during those uncomfortable seconds, a feeling he didn't like from the man he still provisionally despised.  
  
When Draco's summary was over, Lucius nodded and settled a hand with wordless thanks upon Draco's arm before pressing himself up to sit with effort. "Take me to the hallway," Lucius rasped.  
  
Helping his Father rise, Draco brought Lucius' arm around his shoulders where he took most of Lucius' weight before carefully following the impatiently leading Harry. Lucius put effort into his pace although he was still quite unsteady and warned, "The door you describe has a release in the second room down from the end. As I'm not at my best and the two of you haven't finished your respective educations, it would be best to take this slowly and quietly rather than rushing in headlong." The last of his words were obviously directed at Harry as his intent stare fell upon him again.  
  
Ruffling, Harry growled, "I've been quiet so far; I know the value of caution." Feeling the urge to express his anger at Lucius further, Harry instead grit his teeth and led the way to the indicated door, listening at the entryway first and then sensing the ward upon it. With a sigh, he stepped aside and looked at the approaching Lucius impatiently.  
  
"Well," Lucius smirked faintly around a pained grimace, "At least you know enough to feel for wards before entering a room; congratulations, Potter." Reaching the door with Draco's help, Lucius drew in a slow breath and murmuring a few words, touching a specific area on the door's surface and then stepping back, gesturing for Harry to enter.  
  
"We don't have time for this," Harry growled even as he advanced towards the door to check as to whether Lucius did indeed remove the ward. Finding the doorway clear, he cautiously opened it. He kept trying to reach out to sense anything while he slowly walked into the room and found that the room was alright, apart from the back corner where some object of dark power rested that he'd rather avoid by standing right here, thank you very much. Harry did so, glaring at Lucius.  
  
Chucking quietly, Lucius directed Draco to help him over to the back corner where he again murmured words and pressed against an area close to the object that Harry wanted to avoid. "The passageway is opening now. It closes automatically, so I suggest we get there before it does." With that, Lucius pushed himself at a slightly faster pace to get across the room and to the passageway in question. As Harry closed the room's door behind him, the wards activated once more. He caught up to the Malfoys who had just passed into the passageway and stepped in after them. With a surprisingly quiet slide of stone, the entrance slid shut behind them.  
  
Harry reached out to the familiar wash of power flavored by wind and water. They were on their way to find Severus. 


	55. History and Hatreds

Yes, I have returned! (I've never left, really; check my bio and Live Journal for further details). Let me restate my promise. This story will be finished. I had actually intended to write more, but decided that all of my patient and wonderful readers have waited long enough. Since the chapter was nearly the size of other ones I'd done, I decided to post this and continue on in another chapter, which is likely a good thing as this chapter starts into some of the backstory plot. Enjoy! 

Thank you as always for reading and reviewing. Disclaimers still apply.

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Chapter 55 

Lestrange was in heaven, walking behind The Dark Lord once more with his wife by his side. The overwhelming pall of the Dementors was missing from this place, making Lestrange feel as though he might begin to fly unaided by spell or broom, or to explode from the sheer uninhibited energy he felt. He had always been able to hide such things well, but his wife had less experience and so the manic grin upon her features was there for all to see. He would have to teach her how to mask herself later.

Ah yes, he remembered with certain pleasure the first happy memory he'd relieved upon being released from Azkaban by The Dark Lord. That memory was of himself and his wife on her first mission together. She had recently joined Lestrange in fervent support of their Lord and was proving her worth of the mark freshly placed upon her arm and stamped upon her soul; that mission was the torture and displacement of the Auror couple, the Longbottoms.

It was an experiment, Lestrange recalled, the first of many- an attempt at finding ways to be able to displace and extract the soul in a manner other than the use of the Killing Curse or Dementors. The use of both the curse and those creatures consumed the souls they removed in different ways. The Dark Lord wished to control those souls himself in his continued search for immortality. The results of the experimental curse had an effect on the Longbottom's souls, but not in a way that they had hoped. The experiment had been cast after liberal application of the Cruciatus, but the thusly loosened souls had escaped before the new curse could be completed and contain them, instead fleeing for parts unknown. The souls would have tried returning later, but because of that same experimental curse the souls were locked out of their own bodies until the curse was removed- which would be never if Lestrange had any say about it.

Even during the eventual Ministry trial of himself and his wife, Lestrange found it priceless that the Longbottoms were diagnosed as being merely insane through the Cruciatus curse that had been lavishly applied to them. St Mungos would be of no help to them. Only through the willing participation or the deaths of his wife and himself would the curse on the Longbottoms be removed. The judges wondered why he couldn't help but let out the occasional laughter during the trial, cackling his amusement even as the Dementors dragged him away...

Despite these pleasant reminisces, Lestrange found himself sighing as they entered the main room. The sight brought to mind another memory of a similar circumstance when he was walking this same path with the Dark Lord, Parcelsis Snape, Cassius Malfoy and his son, Lucius. As was the same at that time, Severus Snape lay on the altar on the far end, awaiting their attention. Only this time differed in that Lucius the boy was now the Malfoy head and currently unconscious due to a displeasure that Lucius' father had never earned from their Lord. Lucius' son Draco was safely locked away in one of the mansion's many rooms as he had been less than cooperative at discovering his Father's condition. And Parcelsis... well, Severus' Father ran off. The Dark Lord wasn't pleased at that, but Parcelsis was mainly brought from Azkaban for insurance in case the Malfoys weren't enough to bring Severus out of Hogwarts.

Idly Lestrange wondered how intact Parcelsis' sanity was. He suspected part of the answer lay with the elder Snape's cell as well as the diagrams and cramped and intricate print that had taken up most of the visible space on the walls and some areas of the floor. Having only gotten a glimpse of it as The Lord's men carried Parcelsis from his cell, Lestrange shrugged off the question. After Parcelsis discovered the truth behind what happened to his wife and the motivation behind Severus' being given the Dark Mark as well, the elder Snape was quite unlike himself even before he was thrown into Azkaban. He'd previously accepted The Lord's alterations to his son and had even contributed to those changes in appearance, temperament and even his magic. In some ways, Parcelsis lost sanity after the death of his wife in the extent his desire for justice and revenge drove him.

And here was the result resting bound and unconscious before them upon The Lord's altar. Severus Snape, one part of the long ago discovered Prophecy. It was their Dark Lord's intention to bring that Prophecy about in the capture of the other person- the key to the power their Lord would then possess. Perhaps it would even bring them the bonus of delivering Harry Potter into their keeping- if the boy wasn't the missing key himself- which was entirely possible.

To be safe, however, Lestrange had performed his specialty for his Master: Warding. Now the Malfoys' fireplace would only allow a Hogwarts student younger than 18 years through the floo. The other key person of the Prophecy was from a different generation than Severus, so was either older or younger- and all indications from the scraps of the Prophecy they had found pointed to younger and being a current Hogwarts student. No adult wizard would be able to follow the key, the students would be drawn to Severus, and the power would be in their hands.

* * *

The sound of the approaching footsteps might have made most others tense, but Severus had been a spy of long-standing and knew such a gesture would give him away. Being restrained made it even easier this time, despite the less than fortuitous circumstances. As the footsteps paused, Severus strained his hearing in the hopes of catching information that could be useful.

"Open your eyesssss, my boy. I know you better than to think you could not recover your sssssssssensssess before now."

Severus felt a disappointed twinge at the discovery and, knowing that the best way to delay the inevitable was through conversation, he opened his eyes to regard the frightening sight that loomed over his otherwise magically frozen form. When the Dark Lord deliberately put emphasis on his newly serpentine nature, it was wisest not to give him any reason to become irritated. A thin and almost skeletal hand rose, accompanied by a harrowing smirk. "Let usss take a look at you, my Ssssseverusss," was hissed as the Dark Lord gently brushed at Severus' cheek in the parody of a parental caress.

* * *

Harry was in hell, walking down the hallway behind Draco who was assisting Lucius by supporting some of his weight. Harry had wanted to break away from the two and their painfully slow progress, but Lucius had asserted that /he/ was the Master of his manor, and that it hid his deadly wards and unseen hallways well indeed. And so he followed, watching warily as Lucius occasionally raised hand, wand, or word to disable that which challenged the strange little group.

After what seemed like forever, they reached the end of the hall and a door that led to a small room. "A small and secret room which happened to be located next to the one we had used a number of times when Severus was younger," Lucius explained with a bitter smile, "Preparing him for his destiny."

"What destiny?" Harry felt his temper rise to a slow simmer- as though it wasn't already restless. "The Prophecies?"

"How well informed you are," Lucius sneered in return as Draco helped him towards the far end of the room. "Now be quiet- the room is warded against sound going in or out, but it is wisest to not take any chances where the Dark Lord is involved."

Waving a hand at a portion of the wall, Lucius revealed an illusory window that showed the next room and the people inhabiting it. With the softest of curses, Lucius quickly identified Lestrange and his wife, something Harry barely listened to upon spotting Voldemort standing over the prone Severus upon an altar.

At first, Harry was confused at the fact that he didn't see Severus' aura emanating as it should. He'd expected that Severus was likely hurt in being captured, and as Harry felt otherwise unharmed, the theory would follow that Harry would be in possession of the aura sight. As Voldemort shifted his position and started to raise his hand towards Severus' face, Harry understood. The aura was compressed, showing as a thin outline to Severus' body as it was restrained by an invisible force. Squinting, Harry was able to make out the stomach churning colors of helpless anxiety and frustration as the aura shifted, pressing forward as though seeking a way out from its prison.

Voldemort brushed Severus' cheek and temple, slowly hissing, "Let usss take a look at you, my Ssssseverusss." Harry felt a protective surge of anger that made him see red. He heard a growl and felt two pairs of hands holding him back from his physical desire to break through the wall to get to Severus.


	56. Wands and Wizards

Hurrah! Another chapter has been written, and things are beginning to come together into resolution. I realize my pacing is less than ideal, but that will be changing with future stories, I think. I didn't want to suddenly spiral off into the distance and skip over things after I'd previously detailed so much; that and the next series of events can't really be skipped over without losing chunks of plot. 

If I can manage it, I'd like to make this one more chapter long plus an epilogue (or two) to answer some questions I'd left hanging. This chapter is a little longer; I hope that will partially make up for the increased time between postings of the last few chapters. I'm also hoping to update sooner on the next installments.

Thank you as always for reading and reviewing. Disclaimers still apply.

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Chapter 56

"You fool!" Lucius hissed at Harry as he helped his son restrain him from running off. "Are you that determined to get us all killed? We need to plan our actions if we're to survive this encounter."

Perhaps it was the fact that Lucius didn't express reluctance to help in the matter of freeing Severus that got through to Harry, calming him enough that the protective rage ebbed slightly. With the promise of action presented to him, Harry turned to regard the pair of platinum blondes. "Do you have anything in mind, then?"

Lucius wearily leaned against the wall, his carriage and bearing somehow still allowing him to appear graceful despite his current lack of strength. A gesture over to Draco sent the younger Malfoy walking to the other wall and opening a hidden panel. "Do you imagine I brought us here only for the scenery?" Lucius inquired with a grim nod over Harry's shoulder at the figures behind him. He continued swiftly before the drama could again assert its influence upon Harry and dominate his attention. "Neither Draco nor I have our wands; the Dark Lord never had trouble touching them. However, I've a backup wand purchased from one of Ollivander's foreign counterparts." He paused as though reluctant to voice his next thoughts. "I'm in no shape to cast with as much power as we might require at the moment, but Draco will be able to make use of the wand instead." The boy so named returned, the spare wand from the compartment comfortably in hand which sparked Harry's curiosity.

"How could that be possible? Doesn't the wand choose the wizard?" Despite his inquiry, Harry found himself keeping a careful watch upon the other room.

"Draco is compatible with my magic," Lucius explained, still with a touch of reluctance at parting with the information. "The only one who has been able to touch my wands without the consequence of at least some shock and reduced functionality."

Harry was suddenly put in mind of his pain when touching Snape's wand for the first time back in America, then later during the stay in the hospital wing with Severus. Fawkes had delivered Snape's wand to Harry, and touching it afterwards gave him a sense of warmth and rightness. Harry felt compelled to ask, "Could a compatibility like that be developed? Or is it biological?"

With a mild sneer, Draco primly polished dust off of the wand with a cloth. "If you hadn't decided to stay in that useless Divinations class, you could have taken Arithmancy with Granger and me, and had some idea of an answer to your question. There has to be some sort of a strong bond between the people involved, and it isn't at all a common thing. The largest chance for compatible magic to happen is between a parent and child, or between identical twins like the pranksters. Even your friend Weasel had trouble with an old wand belonging to one of his older brothers, I bet."

Somehow, Harry felt better as Draco's manner of superiority began to reassert itself even though it skirted the edge of insulting his friends. It displayed a sense of assuredness that bolstered Harry's confidence even if it didn't dispel his concern for the man bound in the next room. "Where is Severus' wand?" Harry asked with another glance at the group outside. Planning was all well and good, but he wanted to get his idea across quickly so that they could get Severus out of there.

Frowning protectively, Draco's eyes narrowed. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't have my wand with me," Harry muttered anxiously, "But I think I can use his."

With a protectiveness twin to that of his son's, Lucius stared Harry down, "And why would you think such a thing?"

Harry gazed back, trusting that his sense of the two Malfoy's intentions towards Severus were beneficial and simply replying, "The Prophecy."

Lucius' eyes widened and he paled with realization. "You're the one?" Draco just scowled.

Nodding, Harry shifted restlessly and checked the other room again where the occupants still hadn't moved from their previous positions. "The first time I picked up Severus' wand it gave me a nasty shock. But to make this short- lots of things happened in a short time, and the last time I picked up his wand it felt... right. So we should be able to use that to our advantage, and it gives us another wand to cast with- if Severus' wand is here."

* * *

Severus felt as though he were stifled; the spelled bonds contained a dark taint that made it seem difficult to breathe, and having Voldemort looming over him while he was pinned to an alter didn't help improve his outlook. Trying to ignore the discomfort, Severus worked to sense the magic surrounding him for any sort of linchpin he could direct an attack against if he found the opportunity to make an escape. 

As he was feeling around his limited boundaries, Severus also felt Voldemort's invasive probing of his magic begin. It was unpleasant to say the least, but more disquieting than painful; it felt as though his mind and energies were slowly being laid open for the Dark Lord's inspection. Unable to continue his search for an escape, Severus closed his eyes against the probe, trying to resist its pressure. His struggle to keep himself was soon overwhelmed by Voldemort's power and determination, the Dark Lord smiling maliciously as he delved into Severus more deeply. Severus couldn't help but gasp.

"I sssee you've been busy, my Sssseverus. The sssafeguards I placed upon you are gone. I find that waste of my efforts to be most annoying." A cold hand brushed over Severus' forehead, slowly traveling lower until it hovered over his chest. "I can taste Dumbledore's meddling upon you still. He thinks his energy will shield you; he apparently thinks much of you."

The hand moved up Severus' right side, causing Severus' muscles to twitch in reaction as Voldemort continued his study. "I can see that you ssspoke truth when you claimed to not remember; I sssee the rents in your power that have not completely healed. Who healed you, I wonder," Voldemort lingeringly murmured as his hand moved across Severus' shoulders towards his left side. "I am most displeased with you, my Ssseverusss. You have allowed yourself to be influenced by Dumbledore, hiding behind his protections." The voice grew disturbingly cold, sending a shiver of dread up Severus' spine. "You have been... dissssssloyal."

* * *

Lucius' words were delivered quickly with a grim and restless glance into the other room; apparently Harry wasn't the only one with a wish to finish the preparations efficiently. "I mentioned earlier that Voldemort didn't have trouble touching our wands. He's always had trouble touching Severus'. Voldemort always had Severus' father remove the wand from him when he ... visited with us." A grimace of ill-fitting guilt appeared upon the patrician features, but only for a moment. "In all likelihood, Severus still has his wand but cannot reach it, bound as he is." 

Quickly the three of them outlined a plan of attack. It didn't cover all contingencies, but it left enough leeway to deal with things as they came up. With the sudden tension building in the other room, they felt there wasn't time for much else. Voldemort's hand had been moving slowly over Severus' body as though sensing something from him. They couldn't hear what was being said, however; the Dark Lord was murmuring quietly to the trembling form upon the altar.

They decided that Draco would cause a distraction so that Harry could sneak over and retrieve Severus' wand. While the younger Malfoy didn't have the disposition during school to specialize in notice-me-not illusions for Harry, he certainly was inclined to draw attention to himself- or to others- at will.

Harry would run to the altar while the others were distracted. With Severus' wand, he would use Mobilicorpus to aid him in bringing Severus back to the room where Lucius would use his remaining energy and the capability to Apparate past the wards of Malfoy Manor to transport himself and Severus to the boundary of Hogwarts' gates. Lucius assured Harry that the entrance into the room they were in was able to close swiftly if needed, so that Harry and Draco would not be followed as the two boys used the hidden hallways to return to the room with the Floo. With the password Draco knew, they could make a return trip to the point of last departure- Severus' chambers.

* * *

When Voldemort expressed his displeasure and lifted his probe away from Severus, the prone man didn't know whether to expect the Cruciatus curse or worse. He felt sick as Voldemort began to speak to him, slowly rolling up Severus' left sleeve. When punishment was delayed, it was made all the worse out of Voldemort's deliberate effort to do so. That Voldemort was still speaking siblantly only made things worse. 

"The Floo was especially useful this evening. It allowed us to deliver the bottled message from Draco; that boy will need to work on his Imperiusss resistance. It brought you here with a minimum of fuss. It was warded after you arrived by our good Lestrange to only allow someone of school age to travel into Malfoy Manor. There will be no Aurors, no Dumbledore to come to your rescue. The only one likely to come here will be the other half of the Prophecy or perhaps even Harry Potter- if the boy isn't the one we're looking for."

Severus was thankful that Voldemort didn't seem to require responses from him. A dry throat and years of ingrained subjugation under the wizard had stolen his words from him. All he could do was to meet the Dark Lord's gaze as he controlled his expression and his body's reactions to the spoken words that dripped like poison from Voldemort's dark smile.

"The Floo was activated nearly ten minutes ago now. If the child is not found by our Death Eater brethren in the manor, then he likely found poor Lucius or Draco and will be on his way here. Of course, our Lucius was hardly in a position to be of much use in his condition." Unsurprisingly there was no regret in Voldemort's voice; instead it was steeped in smug arrogance as his pale hand returned to Severus' left shoulder, resting there.

"Yes, you have been disgustingly influenced when my wards were removed. But the Dark Mark remainsssss." The lingering whisper trailed off for a moment as the cold fingers trailed down Severus' arm to the area just above the Mark. "... And that is all that matters, really." Knowing what to expect, Severus braced himself as best as he was able to before hearing, "This will bring your benefactor to me if nothing elssssse will."

A touch of Voldemort's finger upon Severus' Dark Mark, a hissed word, and Severus' world exploded with anguish.


End file.
